


Bring Me Home

by Maerynn



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 23 years old, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Older Characters, Roommates, Slow Burn, adrienette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 109,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maerynn/pseuds/Maerynn
Summary: Everybody deals differently with the consequences of Hawkmoth's defeat.The day after, Ladybug eagerly awaits her silly kitty, finally ready to hand him her heart and start a new chapter of their story with him. He never shows up.The day after, Adrien Agreste shuts the whole world out, ashamed of his father's action, while Marinette grows more and more exhausted and depressed as the years go by.Five years later, can anything really be salvaged out of the remnants of their relationship?





	1. Five years

The day Hawkmoth had been defeated was also the day Marinette had lost a huge chunk of herself.

When Chat Noir disappeared without uttering a single word in the aftermaths of the fight, she thought nothing of it at first. After all, he had been forced to use Cataclysm twice during their final fight, so his kwami was probably way beyond exhausted and unable to maintain the transformation anymore. She dealt with the media on her own, grinning from ear to ear, explaining that Gabriel Agreste had been on a foolish quest to bring back his deceased wife, that he had been vanquished for good and that akumas weren’t something Parisians needed to worry about anymore. She had praised her partner to great lengths, stars shining in her eyes as she spoke about all the times he had saved her life, had protected her from nasty blows, and how great their partnership was overall.

He was her best friend, her anchor, her everything.

She loved him, with all her being, and couldn’t wait to be alone with him, free at last of heroic duties, to finally let him know.

The next day, she waited for him in their usual spot, giddy and nervous. After all this time, how would he react knowing she, unbeknownst to him, returned his undying and loudly proclaimed love toward her? She had always made a point to keep things between them strictly professional, but with Hawkmoth finally out of the picture, there was no need to hold back anymore. Marinette was even ready to reveal herself to him and face his inevitable disappointment if it was needed for them to be together. Her puppy crush on Adrien set aside, Chat Noir had always been the better half of her, she trusted him with her very life, he had been by her side through thick and thin all of those years.

She loved him. It was no silly crush, nor shallow infatuation. Her whole being belonged to him, heart, body and soul, and there she was, perched on their usual rooftop, waiting for her feline counterpart to join her so she could confess to him at last.

He never came.

* * *

Five years later, Marinette was still waiting.

Sitting on the old rooftop that never failed to bring back all sorts of memories, happy and sad ones altogether, she contemplated the horizon, the ever so familiar ache rising in her chest.

Five years, and she had yet to see those big green eyes again.

Five long years, and she had yet to hear another of his dumb puns again.

Yet, Marinette couldn’t bring herself to give up. Every single night without fail she would transform, head to their secret meeting spot, and wait for hours. One day, he would show up. He had to. Her bruised heart couldn’t handle thinking otherwise. One day, Chat Noir would come around, step out of his hiding and come back to her. She just had to be patient.

And patient, Marinette could be.

Five years, and she still was waiting for her kitty to come back to her.

* * *

The day Hawkmoth was defeated was also the day Alya Césaire’s mind went wild with worry.

In the end, Adrien’s father turned out to be the big bad guy, a stunning and unexpected plot twist that was revealed to shocked Parisians when Ladybug and Chat Noir had finally succeeded in putting him behind bars for good after an exhausting fight.

Unsurprisingly, Adrien reacted quite badly to the news, building a fortress around him allowed to be crossed only by a few chosen people. He sold the mansion, sold his father’s fashion empire without even looking at the numbers at the bottom of the contract. He fired Natalie and the Gorilla with hefty severance pay and holed himself up in his brand new apartment for weeks before tentatively allowing Nino back into his life. After a while, and a lot of coaxing from Alya’s persistent boyfriend, the blond had regained a semblance of normal life, enrolling into university in physics, going on small social outings with her and Nino and slowly moving on, despite his father remaining a huge taboo within their small circle.

Adrien’s reaction had been expected, and quite normal all things considered. He was left without a mother, with a supervillain in prison as his estranged father, and without any real family to look after him and care about him.

But no matter how much Alya dearly loved her boyfriend’s best friend and was happy to help him on the way to healing, it wasn’t him that kept her up at nights, mad with worry and incomprehension.

In the few months preceding Hawkmoth’s ultimate demise, Alya had noticed her best friend’s interest in their blond model friend falter without any plausible explanation. She had pinned it as odd but never thought twice about it.

But ever since the final fight, Marinette had been acting really, really strange. She had closed up on herself like an oyster, not smiling really often anymore and even more rarely laughing. Her unique bluebell eyes were dimmed, just as if a spark that used to be there before had been snuffed out somehow. The young designer was always exhausted, sporting big and dark bags under her eyes despite going to bed every night way before midnight. When pestered about her lack of love life, or sudden lack of interest into Adrien’s whereabouts, she would merely shrug. She would simply state that Adrien and she were friends, nothing more. Any more prodding into her personal life would be met with a stubborn silence.

And she was hiding behind her silence more and more each day. Alya felt as if her friend was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t understand what was going on. She couldn’t figure out how to help her, what to do to make her feel better.

To bring back the happy, bubbly and amazing Marinette they all knew and loved.

* * *

Five years later, and it still stung badly.

After all this time, Adrien still couldn’t bring himself to overlook his father’s unforgivable actions and go back to her like nothing happened. Revealing his identity was now off the table, not with the supervillain they had been battling together turning out to be his very own father.

How ironic. He had spent all this time abusing his miraculous powers to get the freedom he desperately needed from his father’s stifling and obsessive protectiveness, only to put himself in great danger fighting his father’s evil creation, getting hurt many times in the process.

How could he reveal himself to Ladybug now? He had been living in the same house as Hawkmoth for all those years and didn’t even realized it. Heck, Hawkmoth’s lair had literally been three rooms down from his bedroom, and he never even saw anything odd! How could he have been so blind?

Five years later, and he still couldn’t muster the courage to transform again. To meet Plagg’s rightful anger toward him for keeping him dormant all this time without a real reason to besides sheer cowardice and act like he was okay. Because he wasn’t.

The ring was still safely locked in the safe hidden in his bedroom. He knew this for a fact because he checked every night before going to bed. He couldn’t close his eyes without knowing his miraculous was still safe and sound. But he never touched the silver ring, afraid that even a mere brush of his skin would be enough to bring back Plagg.

A very angry and disappointed in him Plagg.

Back then, he had removed the ring because he didn’t feel worthy of wearing it anymore. He had remained impervious to his kwami’s desperate begging and arguing, unable to think straight anymore. Back then, Adrien was lost, lonely and betrayed. He had acted without thinking, only longing to be free of the burden coming with knowing.

Knowing he had had to pounce on his father to stop him at the last second from breaking his lady’s neck. Knowing he had been the one to deliver the final blow, a second cataclysm ripping Plagg’s very last resources to destroy Gabriel’s ultimate akuma. Knowing he had been the one to handcuff his very own father and push him into the police car, handing him to justice.

Knowing he had badly let his lady down.

There had been reports all over the Internet for the last five years about Ladybug softly crying to herself on some not so random rooftop, waiting for something. Waiting for someone. At first, Adrien had honestly thought that his lady would grow tired of waiting for him rather quickly, and move on with her life like nothing had happened at all.

Five years later, he just didn’t know how to face her anymore. Five years later, and he could swear he felt the painful ache he read in the familiar blue eyes.

He, too, was missing her so much the pain was physical. But he couldn’t bring himself to face her rejection when she’d realized the partner she had been mourning for the past five years was the only son of her archenemy.

Five years later, and he was still a hopeless mess.

* * *

Horror stricken bluebell irises focused on the still-smoking mess laid out before her. She had been somewhat lucky considering the awful tragedy. She had been at work all day, buried under bolts of fabrics and Tikki safely tucked into her purse when the disaster had struck. Far away from hungry flames destroying apartments buildings and destroying one’s material belongings without mercy. The essential were salvaged, in Alya’s opinion at least.

Standing on the sidewalk, Marinette let her estranged best friend awkwardly try to comfort her. “It’s not that bad, Mari. You still have your old room at your parent’s house while they rebuild the building, and it will be brand new by then.”

Groaning, the young woman desperately tried to hold herself together, unaware of the tears silently streaming down her face. Her voice was broken, hesitant, as she breathed into her best friend’s bear hug, “Alya, I’ve just lost everything. The only clothes I have are the ones I have on currently, my computer was in there along with years worth of sketchbooks, and I really, really don’t want to go back living with my folks. I love them, you know I truly do…”

“That’s exactly why we backed up your designs in a cloud service last year. They’re not lost, we’ll retrieve them. And I know that you love your parents, girl. They’re the best.”

Her fists clenched beside her, Marinette went on with her train of thoughts. “But I really don’t want to go back to living with them. They would more than likely end up badly spoiling me to compensate for my loss, and taking care of the bakery is more than enough for them. They really don’t need an upset daughter adding herself to their already full to the brim plate.”

That last statement was nothing short of the truth. Her parents were still working hard to keep up with the bakery’s growing reputation, and since Marinette wasn’t around anymore to help on rush hours they were on their own. Nevertheless, the young designer had to admit her apartment building was now nothing more than a fuming, burnt up and sorry pile of gravel. Thinking anything from it could be even be salvaged was merely wishful thinking, and the blackette knew for a fact that crashing for a few days at Nino and Alya’s wasn’t an option. They both had an unbelievingly hectic schedule, getting up and going to bed at random hours, prompting Marinette to despise every single night so far she had decided to sleep there despite her better judgment.

If she had to be realist, she needed a long-term solution. The former rather charming apartments building was now nothing more than a pile of sorry ashes, and building it back would take months if the owner even bothered to build it back. She had insurance for her furniture and such, sure, but it would take the insurance company weeks to pay up what she was entitled to receive. A rising designer couldn’t afford a few weeks of going to work in the same outfit down to the undergarments.

As she pondered her options quietly, trying to think rationally despite the heavy and irreplaceable material loss she had just unfairly suffered, a friendly hand landed on her shoulder. “You could always move in with me, Mari. I have a spare bedroom available for you and I could definitely use the company.”

And through her despair, due to her lack of better solutions, Marinette found herself agreeing to move in with Adrien Agreste despite her better judgment.


	2. Give back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic's not dead! This is not a drill, this fic isn't dead!

The journey to Adrien’s apartment was spent in complete silence on both parts.

The young man did try on numerous occasion to spark anything even remotely resembling small talk between the two of them, but Marinette was stubbornly clammed up in her frustrating muteness, hunched over herself in a tight ball of despair on the leather of the passenger seat of his car, looking through the window with watery blue eyes. Then again, Adrien forcibly remembered himself, she had just lost everything she owned in her building’s tragic fire.

Nino and he had been catching up over a cup of coffee after a few weeks of silence due to their busy lives when the young DJ had received an SMS from his fiancée. Amber eyes blowing wide, he had jumped out of their booth, grabbing his wallet and tugging on Adrien’s sleeve unceremoniously. “Holy shit, dude, Marinette’s building’s on fire! Come on, Alya’s with her!”

The former model had honestly tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling of unease pooling into his stomach as both men had hastily made their way toward his car. Sure, he had seen Marinette on a few occasions over the course of the last few years, her being Alya’s best friend ensured that would happen on various occasions, but every single encounter had left him with a disagreeable lingering feeling for hours after. True, Adrien and Marinette had known each other frustratingly superficially for a rather long time now, but even after all those years spent as mere acquaintances, Marinette was still a fathomless mystery to him, an unsolvable enigma that had withdrawn herself behind massive and tall walls that not even Alya managed to cross anymore nowadays.

He had still been engulfed in those fruitless musings when they had finally reached Marinette’s burning building. The desolation of the scene laid before their eyes had instantly tightened Adrien’s heart quite painfully in his chest. The formerly very charming apartment building Marinette used to live in had crumbled over itself under the merciless assault of hungry flames, and there was nothing left of it but fuming ashes and charred scraps. Standing on the sidewalk on the other side of the street, Adrien spotted Marinette buried in Alya’s tight embrace, shaking rather violently under the assault. Over the years, the shy girl he knew had blossomed into a stunningly beautiful woman, with curves all in the right places, her beautiful blue eyes still as piercing as they had always been and her silky hair as dark as he could imagine it to be. She was trembling helplessly, her whole body language betraying her heart-shattering misery. Blue eyes subdued, cheeks stained with tears, shoulders slumped, the young woman was obviously way beyond upset, and as Nino and he reached the pair, Adrien managed to hear enough of her rambling to get the gist of her concerns. At already twenty-three years old, she was obviously way beyond reluctant to go back to live with her parents, something he could perfectly understand and get behind.

Once one had tasted freedom, even the sweetest cage was nothing but a cage.

Offering to let her move in with him had been a spur of the moment thing, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself. Even if he had never been that close to her in the past, she blatantly needed somewhere to live, and he knew Alya and Nino’s place to be unnervingly loud and unruly. He himself had plenty of space available to accommodate her, enough money to back her up until she figured things out, and was growing beyond tired of his loneliness.

But now that he looked at her from the corner of his eye as he drove back to his place, Adrien wondered once again if there was another layer to his friend’s despair. Marinette had always been a rather small girl, but right now, she looked utterly minuscule, fragile, broken even, curled up in the passenger seat of his car with a curtain of black hair partially hiding her face. Her bluebell eyes were glistening with still unshed tears, and her bottom lip was quivering slightly. It sickened him to the core to be unable to do more for her, to soothe her obvious pain like Nino had done for him years before. He was more than happy to offer her shelter, nourishment as well as a fully furnished bedroom without expecting any form of repayment, but regardless, she had just lost all of her clothes apart from the ones she was currently wearing, her souvenirs, all of her personal belongings. And he didn’t have a clue about how he could possibly ease her sorrows, to make her feel better. Even if the young woman had been a faint but constant presence in his life ever since they were fifteen, they had somewhat considerably drifted apart in the last five years. His reaction following his father’s incarceration had been rather violent, and he had ended up drastically cutting himself from the outside world for several months, effectively severing almost all his bonds with other people.

The only thing tethering him to reality had been Nino. Nino checking on him every day without fail. Nino insisting on him coming outside until he did so, helping him enroll in university, pushing him into pursuing his life despite everything that had happened. Insisting, but never forcing him to do anything. Truth be told, without Nino, Adrien would probably have bought a ticket to Honolulu five years prior and fled away from the mess that was what was left of his life without ever looking back. At least, it would’ve spared him the weekly news flashes of Ladybug perched on a familiar rooftop. More often than not, the photographers were able to include her glistening eyes in the pictures they took of the heroine. Five years later, and Adrien still couldn’t wrap his mind around her obvious pain. Why was she still crying after all this time? By now, she ought to have forgotten her worthless counterpart, didn’t she?

Adrien shook away his grim thoughts about his former partner as he pulled up in his private parking, taking a second to breathe before removing the key from the ignition. Focusing all of his attention back on Marinette, he noticed she was clutching her bag on her heart tightly, sobbing silently into the soft fabric. Her face was still carefully averted from his, but the unmistakable hiccups of her shoulders gave her away.

Then again, he couldn’t quite blame her for feeling that way after such a traumatic event, now could he?

Tentatively reaching for her, Adrien softly put his hand on her arm.

“We’re here, Mari. Do you want to take a moment to compose yourself? The doorkeeper is far from nosy, but I’d understand if you were uneasy to go upstairs crying.”

She nodded briefly, sniffing loudly and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I’m…”

“Hey,” he soothed her instantly, “it’s okay. It’s been a really long day for you, we’ll figure all of this out tomorrow, okay? Right now, what you really need is a relaxing shower and a few long overdue hours of sleep.”

Again, Marinette nodded without looking at him, and the blond stepped out of the fancy black car.

As his shy friend followed him to the elevator, Adrien nodded an unspoken greeting to the doorkeeper who, true to the former model’s words, simply nodded back without as much as raising an eyebrow at the odd pair. Casting a worried glance at Marinette, the young man checked his phone quickly and found himself filling the heavy silence without really realizing it. “Nino just texted me; Alya called your parents to let them know you’re safe and sound in case they saw your building on the news. I…”

He trailed off, his thoughts violently colliding in his mind. He knew what he wanted to say, but he was afraid that it would rub Marinette the wrong way. “I understand that you’re upset and that you’re in pain. I do know that we aren’t that close, but if you need to talk...”

His heartfelt speech was cut short by Marinette’s small hand landing on his forearm, a visibly forced smile dancing on her lips. “Thank you, Adrien.”

His heart suddenly beating rapidly for no known to him reason, Adrien pressed on the button leading to the top floor and turned to her. He noticed the way she was desperately clinging on her bag, her bluebell eyes riveted to the tip of her ballet flats, but he chose against commenting on it. This bag was probably all that was left of her material belongings; he certainly wasn’t going to make her feel self-conscious about the way she held onto it. The elevator eventually came to a stop, and the blond pulled his keyset out of his pocket. They both stepped into a small hallway leading to a single door, and Marinette waited patiently as the young man unlocked the door leading to his flat.

Truth be told, the building Adrien had settled on in the midst of the events that had occurred five years prior wasn’t anything fancy, the young man being stifled by a desperate need to get away from anything remotely resembling wealth or luxury, but it was nice and charming nonetheless. He had bought the whole top floor, a freshly renovated three bedrooms apartment with two bathrooms and huge windows adorning the exterior walls. He had direct access to the emergency stairs on the side of the building through his living room windows, and to the little terrace the landlord had set up on the rooftop. Stepping aside so Marinette could enter the flat, Adrien hung his keys on a little hook next to the front door. The apartment was spacious, the living room and the dining room being one wide open space, tastefully furnished with a huge comfortable black leather sectional couch facing a decently sized flat screen. The dining area was occupied by a glossy white dining table with straight silvery legs and a set of six silver chairs and black leather seats and backs. From where they were standing, Adrien was able to catch a glimpse of his stainless steel kitchen, as well as the three doors leading to the bedrooms. The farthest away was his own bedroom, which Marinette didn’t need to visit, and the middle room had been turned into an at-home office for him. The first room, however, had been fully furnished into a guest room with its very own bathroom, which Nino had used on more than one occasion when their gaming sessions had stretched too late. That was the room Adrien intended to lend to his friend.

As she stepped into the guest room, Marinette spun on her heels, looking at him with steel-like resolve drenching from her blue eyes. “Thanks for everything, Adrien. I don’t want to be a burden, though, I promise I’ll be out of here as soon as I can. I might manage to rent some hotel room tomorrow or something.”

Trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling that promise made crawl up his skin, Adrien just shook his head. “Nonsense. Do you know how much hotel rooms cost in Paris? I was getting lonely in here anyway, so think of it as you doing me a favor by living here, and not the other way around.”

Marinette sat on the edge of the guest bed, her gaze still carefully avoiding his. “I can’t afford half of your rent even in my wildest dreams, Adrien, and I can’t stay here for free in the long run. I’ll find something for myself, some other rental might...”

“I never asked for any kind of payment,” Adrien cut her short.

“But...”

“But nothing. You need a roof, I need company. You’re welcome here as long as you need it. I was already thinking about getting a roommate, you’ll save me the hassle of finding someone suitable that won’t turn out to be a psychopath.”

Adrien watched as Marinette retracted upon herself once again, sitting on the edge of the bed, still clutching her bag against her heart. She looked fragile, vulnerable as she took in her surroundings. The young man was quite proud of his guest room. The green floral comforter gave character to the room, as well as the cream colored walls. But now that Marinette sat on the end of the bed, her dark hair still hiding half of her face, Adrien suddenly found himself wishing he had chosen pink over green, that he had covered the walls with Jagged Stone posters and pictures of their little squad. He knew it was silly, but some part of him was torn over the fact that the room looked so bare, so generic. He wanted to make it a home for her, somewhere where she would look forward to coming back to at the end of the day, some kind of a peaceful haven.

Standing awkwardly in the doorway, Adrien cleared his throat. “I think Alya left some soap and shampoo in the bathroom the last time they slept here, and I can lend you a t-shirt of mine for the night. If you want to leave your clothes out here, I’ll wash them for you tonight. We’ll go shopping tomorrow to get you some clothes and other essentials.”

Raising her bluebell gaze toward him, Marinette choked back a sob. “Adrien, I don’t have that kind of money to spend, and the insurance company may take weeks to send me the check. I may be able to afford a few clothes in some thrift shops, but...”

He silenced her by raising a hand. “I don’t mind lending you some money in the meantime, Mari. I mean, your situation isn’t the result of poor planning on your part or overspending habits, you just lost everything in a fire. You’ll just have to refund me when you get the insurance check, it’s no big deal, honestly.”

He was about to leave the room when her voice stopped him on the threshold.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t owe me anything.”

A sad smile stretched his lips. “That’s what friends are for, aren’t they? When… when I went through a rough patch, Nino was there for me. He pushed and pulled me through it all, and helped me put my life back on tracks without ever asking for anything in return.”

Casting a glance at the upset girl hunched over herself in his guest room - no, he corrected himself, in her room - Adrien willed his smile to reach his eyes. “I want to be that person for you. I want to give back what Nino did for me back then. I’ll come and get your clothes once I hear the shower running. Do me a favor and try to sleep a little tonight, alright?”

Marinette nodded, the ghost of a smile faintly grazing her lips.

As he closed the door of her bedroom behind him about fifteen minutes later, having gathered her dirty clothes and left an old cotton t-shirt of his neatly folded on her bed, Adrien couldn’t help the warmth that pooled into his heart. The young woman’s presence in his home oddly felt natural to him and sufficed to make the apartment feel more lived in, despite her current distressed state of mind. Smiling to himself while he started the laundry, he found his resolve to put a smile back on Marinette’s face anchor itself deeply within his mind.

No matter what it would take to achieve that goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to the incredible Totally_lucky for all her valuable help with this fic! I look forward to more brainstorm sessions with you and getting your amazing input on what to do with those two dorks. Thanks a lot girl :)


	3. Bottled up

The next morning found Marinette waking up at dawn, feeling groggy and disoriented. The unfamiliar room she had slept in startled her at first, before the events of the day prior came back rushing full fledge at her. She made a poor job of hiding the pitiful whimper that escaped her lips as she recalled her apartment’s building crumbling to dust along with all her possessions and the awkward ride to Adrien’s flat. The stress of the previous day’s events and the lack of sleep crashed down on her with a violence as she curled up on herself in Adrien’s guest bed.

The night before, despite Tikki’s vivid protestations, she had suited up as soon as she had heard her new roommate close his bedroom door and had escaped via the emergency stairs. For the first time in five years, Ladybug had run. She couldn’t bear to stay still, to wait in their spot like she usually did, couldn’t muse another second over the monumental fail that was left of her life. She knew that her partner would find her anywhere if he meant to, if he miraculously was to return that night, so she ran blindly across the rooftops she loved so much, letting the cold air of the night bite at her exposed skin as she crossed half of Paris, refusing to think, refusing to head back to Adrien’s. It’s only when she had swayed on her feet out of sheer exhaustion, missing an otherwise really easy landing and tumbling on a random terrace, that her earrings beeped loudly, echoing in the silent night. Marinette knew better than to stretch Tikki’s patience after all these years and weren’t looking forward to explaining to Adrien why she was causing a ruckus on the loud emergency stairs and sneaking back through his livingroom window if her kwami decided to drop the transformation prematurely. Heart heavy with dread in her chest, she switched directions and swung herself toward the neat apartment building where was apparently her new  _ home. _

Coming back through the window she had left open behind her was a piece of cake despite the state of tiredness she was in, and she had willed off the transformation as she crashed onto the bed Adrien had so kindly offered her. And there, wrapped in his t-shirt, laying in his sheets, Marinette had finally broken down. She had sobbed herself to sleep, impervious to her kwami’s attempts to soothe her as she had pressed her little body against her charge’s cheek. If Marinette had bothered to look at her old friend, she would have seen just how worried the little deity was about her. But she didn’t, and she finally fell into a nightmare-fueled slumber around 4 a.m.

The few hours of sleep she had gotten, coupled with the eventful previous day made sure that she woke up in a foul mood. Reluctantly, the young woman tore herself from the bed and dragged herself to the bathroom to freshen up a little. Adrien’s t-shirt fell mid-thigh on her, granting her a little decency, but she couldn’t wait to put her own clothes back on. She felt uncomfortably exposed, clad in only her panties and her former crush’s shirt, as if being surrounded in his scent like that was somehow a betrayal toward her departed kitty. “ _ Get a grip, girl. You’ve been in love with a ghost for five fucking years already.”  _ But no matter how she repeated this mantra over and over again, her heart was dead set on loving the leather-clad boy with an infinite string of puns that had disappeared without an explanation after their final fight.

Feeling tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, Marinette shook her head, exasperated with herself. She had been doing well recently, keeping the mourning over her partner to a minimum. Her therapist kept pestering her to move on to the last stage of grief,  _ acceptance. _ But Marinette couldn’t. Even if it meant remaining feeling hollow and broken for the remainder of her days, she just couldn’t accept the sudden void he had left by her side. Not without  _ knowing  _ where he had spent all of those years. Dr. Ellis had tried time and time again to make her understand that  _ accepting _ didn’t mean  _ forgetting. _ But Marinette was a stubborn little thing, that kept going through denial, anger and depression back and forth, dizzying the poor woman that tried to keep up with her patient’s progress.

Which had gone in flames along with her apartment.

Shaking those grim thoughts away, she wandered into the livingroom, searching for the washing machine. Seeing that Adrien was more than likely still asleep, she let out a relieved sigh and retrieved her clothes from the day before from the dryer before retreating to the guest - her - room to dress up for the long day ahead of her. Fishing a scrunchie from her bag, she was tying her black locks up in a ponytail when Adrien knocked on her door. “Are you up, Marinette?”

Holding her jacket open so that Tikki could flew into hiding, Marinette sighed briefly and opened the wooden panel. “Hi, Adrien.”

He smiled at her, one of those smile that would have turned her in a stammering puddle years before. “I see you’ve retrieved your clothes. Good. I just fixed breakfast, grab a bite and then we’ll go.”

“You don’t  _ have  _ to do this, Adrien,” answered Marinette as she let herself out of her room and followed him to the kitchen.

“I want to. We went over that already. Now eat up while it’s still hot, we have a lot of shopping to do.”

Marinette groaned in defeat, but nonetheless helped herself to the cup of coffee he had poured for her, biting absentmindedly in some strawberries as she stared at the countertop. Long fingers landed on hers, startling her out of her thoughts. “You okay, Mari?”

Surprising even herself, the young woman shook her head in perfect honesty. “No. I’m not.”

Retreating, Adrien eyed her carefully. “Would you prefer going shopping with Alya? I can call her, it’s not a big deal, really.”

“No!” exclaimed Marinette, a bit more harshly than she intended. “I don’t want to worry her. She already has enough on her plate, and besides, you know how she is. She’ll make a fuss out of this, and it’s really the last thing I need right now.”

The blond sighed, taking a bite of his breakfast. “Fine, I won’t call her. But if you need  _ anything,  _ and I mean it, please promise me you’ll come to me.”

Both of them were painfully aware that her nod was too quick to be sincere. Thankfully, Adrien didn’t press the matter further. They ate what remained of their breakfast in a peaceful silence that was far less heavy than Marinette would’ve feared. 

Once they were both satiated and ready to leave, Adrien pulled his keys from his pockets and mused out loud that they had to have one for the apartment cut for her. He made sure to lock the door behind them, showing her how to arm and disarm the security system, admitting with a little sheepish smile that the pincode was merely his birthday backwards. On their ride down the elevator, he inquired about any allergies she might have, obviously relieved to hear she had none, and asked about her general preferences. Adrien made all the small talk by himself, asking her short and functional questions which she could answer without getting any feelings involved. It became obvious really quick that he was actively trying to make this as painless as could be for her, and she couldn’t help the gratitude that bubbled in her chest. And as they made their way toward the black fancy car, one thought stuck with Marinette. 

Maybe, only maybe, this whole cohabitation thing could work.

* * *

Adrien had obviously thought out the shopping trip ahead, and Marinette couldn’t help but feel a little out of the loop as he kept driving them around town, coaxing her into various boutiques under the pretense of renewing her entire wardrobe. She followed him wordlessly, years of being Alya’s best friend having taught her perfectly that arguing with Adrien Agreste was beyond useless. 

They raided a cute shoe store, Adrien eagerly covering every single occasion that might arise in the next six months. Some uptown fashionable boutique provided her with enough outfits to wear at work for the next three weeks (and then she only had to reshuffle them around to make brand new outfits, neither seen nor known). They argued endlessly over the virtues of expensive organic cotton versus affordable synthetic fabric in an athletic shop. Some indy shop called “The Naughty Cat” selling printed t-shirts with silly slogans and other nerdgasmic merchandise granted them the perfect occasion to stock up on band t-shirts and matching boxers, which Marinette simply adored sleeping in. 

Adrien insisted on buying her a few pair of jeans along with some more casual clothes, stressing that she humanly couldn’t strut around in office attire all day long and needed to be comfortable at home. For reasons that were way beyond her, he had her measurements taken for a formal gown that promised to be gorgeous. But the last straw, really, was when he dragged her into a home decoration store despite her rather violent protests. No matter what argument Marinette would offer him, he relentlessly scanned through the aisles of the store, a specific goal clearly in mind. A few hot pink decorations to hang on her bare walls and a matching comforter with cream colored flowers embroidered on it later, the odd pair made their way back to the car, small talk becoming easier by the minute between them.

As they were passing a gift boutique, a three-feet tall plush doll of Chat Noir caught Marinette’s eye, sending a raw shot of pain in her heart. Adrien must’ve noticed her lingering gaze on the toy, because he changed direction and walked right into the store.

“Adrien, you’ve done too much already, I don’t  _ need  _ a doll. I’m a grown up woman,” she tried to plead.

Shaking his head with a mischievous smile, the blond snorted. “You maybe are, but even you must feel alone at night from time to time, especially in an unfamiliar to you house. This little guy will keep you company and keep you safe. Who could be better for this job than Chat Noir?”

Apparently, Adrien took her breathless silence for an agreement, and grabbed the toy, heading for the cashout without giving her time to react.

Trying to keep the crippling pain seizing her insides in check at being reminded of her beloved partner this way, Marinette did the first thing she could think of. She snatched the matching Ladybug doll and marched to the clerk.

“You should’ve said you wanted the pair,” mused Adrien as he tried to take it from her hands.

“Nope. This is for you,” answered the young woman, handing the plush doll herself to the employee.

The blond chuckled in disbelief. “For me?”

“We have to keep you safe at night too now, don’t we?” she purred in answer, her credit card in hand. “I might not have enough money to replace my belongings all at once, but I can at least afford a little gift to say thank you.”

“With both Chat Noir and Ladybug in it, our apartment will be Paris’s safest!” laughed Adrien, without having a clue about how close to the truth he was, or about how much his words unwillingly hurt his blue eyed friend.

Not that Marinette noticed the pained look in the familiar green eyes, either.

* * *

Eyeing the numerous bags at his feet, Adrien made a mental count of the stops they had already made as he unlocked his car’s trunk. Tucking the packages away safely, he smiled warmly at a fidgety Marinette standing next to him. “Alright, I think we only have one stop left before going home.”

Guiltily eyeing the hundreds of euros of clothes he had already bought her, the young woman sighed warily. “What more could I possibly need, Adrien? We went over shoes, pajamas, work outfits, yoga gear, more casual clothes, you even bought me a  _ gown  _ for God’s sake! And that’s not even taking into account the paintings and comforter you  _ insisted  _ on buying even though I really don’t need it.”

Rounding his car, the blond unlocked the doors and slid easily into the driver’s seat, not even bothering to sustain her accusatory glare. “I insisted because I want you to feel at home. I want your room to be truly yours, not a room decorated in the most generic way possible. You told me pink was still your favorite color?”

Biting her lower lip, Marinette nodded, still uneasy with the amount of money Adrien had just spent on her without even batting an eye. He looked at her sideways briefly, a small smile stretching his lips. “I want this to work, Mari. And if it take pink paintings and comforter to help you feel at home, it’s a really small price to pay, honestly.”

Whatever Marinette was about to answer got lost into a strangled cry when she noticed where her new roommate had driven her. “Adrien!” she shrieked. “You can’t buy me underwear!”

The former model raised a skeptical eyebrow at that statement, exiting his car despite his friend’s protests. “ And what are you going to do? Go to work commando until the the insurance check comes in? Somehow, I think it's  frowned upon, even in the  fashion world . ”

“ Why are you so intent on taking away what little pride I have lef t, Adrien?” Marinette whined loudly as she stepped out of the car in tow, talking to him over the metal roof.

Shrugging, the young man shot her a teasing smile. “ Why are you so intent on thinking you're a burden for me? ”

“ **_Fine_ ** , ”Marinette finally said, sulking and throwing her arms in the air in defeat. 

His victory secured, a smirking Adrien led her to the small lingerie boutique. As soon as they crossed the threshold though, the implications of said victory came crashing down on him all at once, and he found himself fidgeting with his car keys, awkwardness pooling in his gut. Everywhere he looked, lace and satin seemed to mock him. “ Huh... you know what? Why don't you go ahead and make your choice? I'll meet you at the cashout. ”

“Oh, hell no! You dragged me here, you’re suffering  _ with  _ me,” Marinette scoffed, taking her friend’s hand into hers, dragging him mercilessly through the door. Face flushed bright red with embarrassment, she stormed past the stunned clerks, poor Adrien in tow, into their new personal hell of fabric. Luckily for her, she was familiar enough with her body and with clothes in general to know in a glance what would fit her, and she made as quick work as she could of the chore at hand.

Standing awkwardly a few feet behind her, Adrien was as tense as a guitar string, and obviously couldn’t decide on a safe spot to look. So when he leaned in toward her, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, she should’ve known he wasn’t up to any good. His green eyes shined as he whispered playfully, “Hey, Mari, did you really want to skip this shopping? After all, underwear is the  _ bare  _ necessity.”

Stopping dead in her tracks, Marinette spun on her heels and glared at him as much as she could manage to. Ignoring the painful tug at her heartstrings hearing a pun after all those years, she tried to repress her inner Ladybug as she half-whisper scolded the proud blond grinning in front of her, “Adrien! Don’t you dare make puns in a lingerie boutique!”

“You’re right, Mari. We have to draw the  _ bottom  _ line somewhere,” he purred in the same half-whisper tone she had just used against him.

Groaning, Marinette sighed, burying her head in her hand in defeat. “Adrien, just don’t. I’m as uncomfortable as you are right now, but if you’re really  _ that  _ much uneasy, I guess I can finish on my own just fine.”

His own cheeks bright red, Adrien held his hands in surrender, “Alright. I’ll keep it  _ brief.  _ No need to put your  _ knickers  _ in a twist.”

Despite herself, despite how much the incessant string of puns painfully reminded her of her missing partner, despite how uneasy she was shopping  _ underwear  _ with  _ Adrien Agreste,  _ Marinette felt genuine laughter bubble up in her chest. Seconds later, Adrien and she were laughing together in the ocean of lace, and suddenly the whole situation seemed utterly ridiculous. 

Pulling herself together and warily eying a still-gathering-his-breath Adrien, Marinette tried to focus on the task at hand. She almost managed, up until her companion called her out, “Hey, Mari, look at this one! It’s the  _ breast  _ thing ever, isn’t it?”

Sure enough, as the blue eyed girl turned around, the blond was proudly showing off some atrocity made of peacock patterned silk and satin ribbons. Giggling, she waved him off and resumed her shopping. Not to be deterred, Adrien showed up in front of her minutes later, holding an obnoxious tiger striped bra in front of him. “I don’t wanna  _ push-up  _ a pun on you, Mari, but this is un _ bra _ lievable.”

Cracking up, Marinette shoved him playfully, before snatching some ridiculous babydoll made out of way too many ruffles and bows off the rack. “What about this one? Sexy enough for you, Mr. Agreste?” 

A loud snort was the only answer she got, but she wasn’t expecting more. As they went through the boutique, still pointing out the most ridiculous items and acting silly with each other, Marinette somehow managed to make her choice on a few practical and comfortable but still cute enough bras and boyshort panties. Once she was satisfied with her choices they both headed toward the checkout, still a little teary from all the laughter. Her new roommate paid the bill without uttering another pun, for which she was grateful, and when the clerk commented on how lovely the gift Adrien was making his girlfriend was, the young man merely blushed and thanked her.

Once they were back into the privacy of his car, one single glance at each other was enough to send them back into peals of laughter. Struggling to find her breath, Marinette smiled. “My dear boyfriend, you didn’t even buy me any sexy lingerie! What is the clerk going to think about our nonexistent sex life! Why didn’t you correct her?”

The young man chuckled softly. “I’ve learned in the long run that sometimes, it’s easier to just let them think what they want to than explain the long story. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable?”

“Don’t worry about that. Should we head home?” answered the young woman truthfully, tucking their purchases away in the trunk of Adrien’s car. He only smiled in answer, turning the ignition key and putting the car into motion.

On their way back to the apartment, Marinette tried to gather both her breath and her thoughts. Whatever awkwardness had been lingering between Adrien and she had somehow vanished, even if she was far from even considering sharing her secrets with him. Yet, all it had taken to make her laugh again was a few dumb puns. What would her silly kitty say if he saw her, laughing heartily at some poor word play?

The thought stung briefly, but for the first time in five years, the young woman refused to let her memories foul her mood. For the first time in five years, she allowed herself to keep Chat Noir bottled up in her heart, and to offer a genuine smile to the human being sitting beside her. Taking care of her despite everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shopping scene is the result of some hilarious brainstorming with some wonderful ladies ^^


	4. Drunken Haze

Once they got back home, Adrien confidently unloaded their copious amount of purchases from the trunk of his car, piling them up beside him on the ground. Truth be told, he didn’t feel anything off until he noticed the fiery blush spreading on his friend’s cheeks and the way she kept nibbling on her lower lip upon seemingly noticing the heavy amount of bags still laying in the trunk of his car as well as those resting on the ground beside his calves. Knowing without a single doubt what was going through her troubled mind, the young man instantly chimed in, willing his voice to be reassuring as he helped her pick all the bags from the ground, “Don’t you dare feeling like a burden to me again, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. We had to replace ALL of your belongings at once, I knew what I was getting myself into.”

A shy smile answered his statement. “Thanks, Adrien. I still don’t get  _ why  _ you’re doing this for me, but I won’t insult you by not appreciating it,” Marinette said as they reached the building’s frontdoor. 

He paused for a second, awkwardly standing in the building’s doorway, warily eyeing his friend. Once again, he got the odd feeling that there was another layer to her sadness. Remembering the little stunt he had orchestrated with Ms. Taylor earlier that day, he smiled softly, hoping with all his heart that he would succeed in putting a smile back on Marinette’s pretty face, “I’m glad you think so, because I took the liberty of organizing some things while we were away shopping.”

That effectively stopped the young woman dead in her tracks, staring at him dumbfounded, her bluebell eyes silently questioning him. They must have offered quite an odd sight to any passerby, her utterly stunned into sheer speechlessness outside the building with her arms full of bags, him holding the door open for her, a sheepish yet somehow proud smile on his face and his arms equally full.

After a few seconds of shocked silence, Marinette managed to squeak out inelegantly, which Adrien made sure to  _ not  _ point out, “Adrien Agreste. What in the world have you done?”

“Nothing that you won’t enjoy,” he answered smugly while she finally managed to enter the building. The elevator ride was mostly silent, saved from Marinette’s indignant huffs and Adrien’s answering chuckles. The young woman kept mumbling under her breath, quietly cursing her overachiever friend who couldn’t accept no for an answer. Her mood didn't lift as he tried her brand new, recently-received key in his  _ -their-  _ apartment door, nor did she cheer up when he helped her deposit all her bags in her bedroom.

Vibrating with anticipation, Adrien didn’t gave her much time to dwell over her irritation with him, because as soon as the last bag was out of her arms, the young man eagerly dragged her out of the room and into the middle bedroom, never realizing he was holding her hand in his all along.

When the young man nervously turned on the lights in the cozy room, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from his roommate’s confused face. It took Marinette a few seconds to understand what her friend was so smug about. Her eyes first landed on a nice wooden desk adorned by a comfortable-looking office chair. Physics exams waiting to be graded and a forgotten colorful mug sporting the words “ _ Best teacher ever _ ” surrounded by his students signatures made a clear statement that this desk was his. An immense bookshelf covered the remaining of that wall, its shelves full of various and colorful books, his pride and joy. 

Adrien watched in awe as the blue eyes shifted to the other corner of the room, where now stood a new wide working table, sturdy and practical, and perfect for the high-quality sewing machine set up on it. The big, pink and obnoxious bow indicating the sewing machine was a gift was even better than what he asked for to begin with. He wanted this to be a clear affirmation, a testimony of just how happy he was to have her living with him. This work station was entirely hers, and hers only. Next to the sewing machine laid a powered-on laptop, with an open window stating that it was currently fifty-six percent through downloading her cloud back-up of her designs. He made a mental note to thank Alya later for her invaluable help with that specific matter.

Spinning on her heels, Marinette faced Adrien with a bewildered expression, “This is too much, I can’t accept this. I won’t be able to repay you for this, I already owe you way too much.”

He slipped his hands into his pockets and grinned at her,looking as smug as a cat who'd just presented his mistress with a dead animal as a treat. “Good thing this is a gift, then.”

Marinette backtracked a bit, warily eyeing her still-grinning friend. “Adrien, I can’t accept this. I already owe you tremendously…”

“A gift is a gift, Marinette. I haven’t mentioned anything about any form of repayment.”

Marinette groaned, resting her face into her palms in a defeated manner, “Adrien, you just  _ can’t  _ buy me a sewing machine  _ and _ a laptop, it isn’t even remotely okay between friends.”

Adrien smirked at her, knowing he had won this round, “Good thing I didn’t buy them, then. Don’t try to wiggle your way out of this one, Marinette. I know how you are by now, I can swear to you I haven’t spent a dime on these. So you have to accept those gifts.”

Marinette blinked, obviously taken aback. “What do you mean, you haven’t spent a dime? Those things are expensive, Adrien!”

His smirk grew even wider. “Mme Meryl Taylor, the woman who bought  _ Gabriel _ , owes me a favor or two and is quite fond of me. She says I remind her of her son. When I asked if they had a good sewing machine and a computer they could part with, she was ready to come over here and set it up for you herself.”

“You didn’t,” was the only reply Marinette could apparently manage in her overly shocked state.

“Of course I didn’t,” answered Adrien, still very proud of himself and his schemings but willing to admit the idea of a CEO roaming their apartment was unsettling, “but she did send very skilled people to do the job on her behalf. She asked about your portfolio, by the way. They’re looking for talented people as yourself as we speak.”

“I’m…” began Marinette, deflating before him just like a balloon he would’ve pricked with a needle. When she spoke, her voice was strained, pained even, “I’ve lost the spark, Adrien. I  _ really  _ appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I just can’t create anymore. I wouldn’t be an asset to any company with things as they are right now.”

As they retreated back to the kitchen, Adrien couldn’t help but  _ feel  _ the sorrow oozing from his beautiful friend. He had been aware that mentioning her old dreams was taking a step in dangerous territory, but he never meant for her to look broken like that. A few clumsy words, and they were back to square one. He felt like all the progress they had made with each other through the day had suddenly vanished, like they were back in his car the previous evening, with Marinette clutching her bag on her chest and him not knowing how to soothe her. 

In a last attempt at defusing the atmosphere between them, Adrien playfully nudged her, a sly smile dancing on his lips, “I’m pretty sure that you’ll be back on your feet in no time, but does that mean you’ll accept my gift? Because I was kinda looking forward to have you sew while I grade papers. It would make it a lot less boring, and much more agreeable.”

Reluctantly admitting defeat, Marinette sighed, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. “On one condition. You let me fix dinner for us two tonight, as a thank-you gift. For everything.”

Adrien dramatically sighed, before answering with a fond look in his eyes, “If I  _ really  _ have to…”

* * *

A trip to the grocery store and an hour or so later, Marinette deposited various plates on the kitchen table, smiling smugly to her hungry roommate. “I took the liberty to cook chinese specialties. You have fried rice over here, with some beef and broccoli stir-fry, Mama’s recipe. The pot over there contains Szechuan noodles, you should like those, they’re kinda sweet and yet tasty.”

Smiling at her widely at the mouth watering display, Adrien dove into his small wine collection, “We want red or white to go which such a masterpiece?”

“Mama always had white wine with traditional chinese food. I’ve always sucked at food and wine pairing thought, so I don’t know how reliable this information is.”

Pulling a fancy bottle from his little cellar, Adrien unmanly squealed in victory, “A Sauvignon Blanc it is, then. Can’t go wrong with this.”

She only smiled at him in answer, setting both of their plates on the table and gesturing for him to take a seat. The blond eagerly obliged and dived right into the delicious meal laid before him, humming in delight as the flavors hit his taste buds. “This amazing, Mari. You’re spoiling me.”

“That’s nothing, really. You did so much for me today, it was the least I could do,” she answered, her bluebell eyes strained on her fidgeting chopsticks.

Refusing to be deterred by such a trivial obstacle, Adrien relentlessly tried to spark some kind of conversation between them, determined to get his new roommate at the very least comfortable around him.

Over the course of their meal, the young man quickly realized that some topics were deemed  _ safe  _ by Marinette. 

Talking about Alya and Nino instantly sent her into overdrive, gesturing wildly and shamelessly sharing stories from their teenage years. Alluding to the bakery granted him a fond and forlorn smile, as she spoke vividly about how her parents were faring without her help, and the hopes her father still cherished that one day, she would take over the family business. 

She listened intently as he told her stories from his modeling years, laughed with him as he recalled his first (and very awkward) weeks in public school. 

The conversation went on, seemingly without a hitch, but Adrien knew better. Just as anything about his father was carefully avoided, Marinette’s personal life was barely brushed. Tales of his disastrous attempts to date were met with a shy smile and a half-hearted statement that she had yet to find time to date anyone. Complaining about his lazy students only managed to get him a light scolding about him not appreciating enough living his dream.

Which only prompted Adrien to try harder and make hers happen at last. Having spent the better part of his life nodding dutifully and doing what was expected of him, he was seeing right through her calm yet pained mask, and he didn’t like what he was seeing. His friend was hurting for an unknown reason, refusing to let anyone close enough to her to actually help her, and it was beginning to drive him mad.

Right then and there, Adrien Agreste resolved to bring happiness to his shy friend, no matter the cost.

* * *

How he ended up half-sitting, half-slouched on his living room floor beside Marinette, playing Cluedo and sharing a bottle of wine between them, was a story Adrien couldn’t tell. By then, they had gone through the entire bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, paid their tributes to a very fancy Chardonnay, and they were now halfway through an expensive bottle of Bordeaux he had received as a gift upon signing the sale of  _ Gabriel.  _

Soon enough, the official rules of the game had been long forgotten, and they both kept rolling the dice and making wild guesses about the culprit, giggling to themselves and sloppily moving their pawns all over the gaming board. They both seemingly had lost the ability to count properly, but neither seemed to care the slightest.

“So! My guess is that the murderer is Professor Plum, in the library with the candlestick!” garbled Adrien, reaching for the not-so-forgotten bottle laying in the middle of the board.

Marinette chuckled, grabbing her own pawn, “Adrien, this has been your guess for the last three turns. If you were wrong last time and you’re still wrong.”

“And this matters why?” the blond slyly asked, taking a huge gulp of the alcoholic beverage.

Marinette smirked at him. “You’re going to lose this game.”

“I don’t know about that,” answered Adrien, taking another sip directly from the bottle, “Hawkmoth’s suit  _ was _ purple, after all.”

The young woman giggled, eyeing the pawns still on the playing board. “Ooooooooh!”, she squealed, “I know! The murderer is Colonel Mustard, on the stairs, with six-inch-high heels!”

“...Those are aren’t even game options, Marinette,” Adrien weakly tried to counter, failing miserably to repress his laughter.

Still smiling broadly, Marinette gestured to her bare feet, “Heels are deadly weapons! Have you ever worn any? No, no, don’t even answer. If you ever had, you would be agreeing with me! You have to be a superheroine to survive in those! Let alone dealing with stairs wearing them!”

Not even bothering to roll the dice, Adrien grinned, handing her the mostly empty bottle, “Wait, wait, wait! I know who did it! It was clearly Ladybug, in the hall, with a frying pan!”

Marinette snorted inelegantly, dripping some wine on the coffee table as she tried to settle the bottle back on it. “With a frying pan? Really?”

The blond shrugged, reaching for the envelope containing the answer to their fruitless musings, “Why not? It worked for Rapunzel! Speaking of, maybe  _ she  _ killed Mr. Black, strangling him with her hair?”

Ripping the envelope out of his unsuspecting hands, Marinette chuckled, “Hey, no peeking Mr. Teacher. Why Ladybug, anyway?”

“Well,” the young man laughed half-heartedly, trying to ignore the usual burning in his chest at the mention of his long-lost partner, “Mr. Black is obviously Chat Noir, and if anyone could kill him with a frying pan, it would be Ladybug.”

Through his drunken haze and the ever so familiar pain tugging his heartstrings, he didn’t notice how her friend instantly curled up on herself hearing those words, the flash of sheer hurt going through her bluebell eyes. He did, however, catch the single tear rolling down her cheek, bringing his worries toward his lovely friend at the forefront of his mind. “Mari….” Adrien slurred, eyes half-lidded, “why are you always so sad? I wanna cheer you up so bad, but I just don’t know how.”

Marinette brought the bottle to her lips and took another sip of wine, her eyes somewhat subdued. Surprisingly, though, she met her roommate’s gaze with an equally lidded look. “I lost someone… something. A cat. It was kinda black. I think. Gosh, everything’s such a blur right now. But I loved him very much, and one day he just never came back. It broke my heart to pieces. I miss him so much.”

Adrien smiled, his heart buzzing weirdly in his chest. “He’s a lucky cat, to have caught your heart like that.”

The young woman beamed at him as she hazily settled the bottle back on the coffee table, chuckling under her breath. “I called him Mr. Snuggles, once. Maybe that’s why he ran away.”

Recalling an occasion where his lady had called him Mr. Snuggles, referring to his obvious cuddling obsession, Adrien willed himself to laugh despite how much his heart felt like lead in his chest at that precise second. “This is a horrible nickname for sure, but surely such a trivial thing could not keep your cat away from you for so long?”

How exactly it happened, neither of them could really tell. Marinette stood on unstable legs as they both reached for the open bottle at the same time, and the tiredness of their busy day coupled with the high level of alcohol in both of their systems messed their balances up. Marinette wobbled dangerously on her feet, prompting the young man to surge forward and steady her so she wouldn’t fall over. The hand he intended to land on her waist and secure her stance, though, instead tugged on it, which, coupled with his sloppy movements, ensured that Marinette instead stumbled right into his lap, her slender arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself, both of their minds blurry beyond reason.

Adrien subconsciously licked his lip, gulping painfully as his gaze unwillingly fixed itself on her rosy, plump, appealing lips. His green eyes half-closed, he ever so slightly leaned toward her, his hands resting on her hips. Suddenly, all he could think of was her lips, her eyes, her everything, and just how she was calling to him like a siren’s song. All care and pretenses disappeared beneath an alcohol-fueled haze, and he dove for what he was craving for.

Marinette froze in his hold, her breath hitching in her throat, but his inebriated mind failed to register it, to process it properly. The second his lips brushed against hers, a hint of wine on them, Marinette stiffened even further under his touch. Ducking away, she jumped to her feet, her expression somewhat panicked. “Goodnight, Adrien,” she blurted before effectively fleeing into her bedroom. 

Left behind, confused and drunk beyond words, Adrien merely groaned in defeat, laying back on his couch. With a little luck, the room would eventually stop spinning long enough for him to reach his bed.


	5. Ever After

For the second day in a row, Marinette found herself waking up feeling groggy, and having to think really hard to put back together pieces and bits of the night before. The patronizing scowl on Tikki’s face wasn’t reassuring her the slightest about the outcomes of her evening with Adrien. Groaning loudly, she painstakingly tore herself out of her bed and headed to her bathroom on wobbly legs. A throbbing headache threatened to overwhelm her at any moment, her mouth was dry as dust and she felt like she just had swallowed lead.

Standing in front of the vanity, she supported herself with both of her arms on the bathroom sink, eyeing her reflection critically. The damage was visible, but not unmanageable. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and swollen, and her complexion was even paler than usual. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to ease the dizziness a little. She set the water temperature of her shower a little warmer than normal, eager to draw some color to her skin. As she stepped under the welcome relaxing water jet, she lathered herself with the strawberry-scented shower gel she had bought the day before, letting her thoughts wander freely.

As she did so, memories of the night before started to come back to her, along with an unpleasant feeling in her gut. Most of the evening was a messy blur. She faintly recalled something about Hawkmoth killing Colonel Mustard with high heels, but given that she couldn’t make any sense out of that memory, she chose to discard it. Another one took its place almost instantly, and Marinette let out a horrified gasp.

Adrien had tried to kiss her.

Memories of that dreadful moment flooded her mind as she stilled in the shower, her heart beating furiously, painfully within her ribcage. Shame washed over her as she recalled the pleasant sensation of her friend’s lips brushing against her own, of the warmth of his hands on her hips. She should have stood back up when she had seen him lick his lips, staring at hers with flaring hunger at the back of the green eyes. But she had been heavily intoxicated, her common sense long gone, and the loneliness had been stifling her for so long… So instead of doing the sensible thing and stop him, she had leaned in, craving for love, craving a human touch. 

The second his lips had brushed against hers, though, a hint of wine on them, a different pair of emerald eyes had come crashing back on her without warning, the familiar yet now distant feeling of a different pair of hands steadying her hips in a fight, a different pair of lips stretching into a smirk she had come to love and miss so much.

Instantly sobering, she had finally managed to jump to her feet, trying desperately to ignore how she felt like her heart was breaking all over again. 

And how in the world was she supposed to face him now?

She didn’t have much time to dwell on those feelings, seeing as Adrien knocked on her bedroom door shortly after she had stepped out of the shower. “Mari? We’re leaving in twenty minutes, will you be alright?”

Marinette’s heart caught in her throat.  _ Right.  _ She had forgotten about that part.

Adrien’s apartment was significantly further from her workplace than her old place. Seeing as she didn’t own a car and that her own workplace was on his way to work, Adrien had kindly offered to commute with her. The day before, she had seen no harm in accepting, supposing that it would make her mornings significantly less lonely.

Now, she wasn’t so sure anymore that she had made the right choice.

“I’m almost ready,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her voice trembled, “don’t worry.”

She heard a low chuckle on the other side of the door, followed by a soft, “Your definition of punctuality never was quite … conventional, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check. Hurry up if you wanna have time to eat.”

His footsteps faded, leaving a stunned Marinette standing in the middle of her room, loosely holding her shirt and staring at the closed door. Had he… Had he really just acted like nothing was wrong? Like neither of them had made a huge mistake the previous evening, therefore potentially risking their entire friendship, let alone their cohabitation?

She knew Adrien well enough to be fully aware that the young man was the very epitome of gallantry. If anything even remotely reprehensible truly had transpired between them the night before, he would already be dissolved in apologies, insisting on talking things through and fixing them up.

The fact that he was lightheartedly teasing her about her everlasting tardiness didn’t add up. What if… What if that faint kiss she was torturing herself over had never happened, after all?

What if it was only her lovesick mind making up fantasies about any green-eyed blond man to cross her path?

Gathering her breath as well as she could, she managed to resume dressing. Her work clothes were still somewhat casual, despite what Adrien had expected. Despite what everyone thought.

Yes, her work at the  _ Ever After  _ office was somewhat related to fashion. Yes, she was expected to look nice and proper at any given time, if only to avoid deterring any potential customers. 

But, contrary to what everyone thought, Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t a junior designer in some upscale boutique. 

Adrien had shown some surprise the day before considering the comfortable yet cute work outfits she had settled on. She had dismissed his questions with a laugh, stating she needed to move freely (which was true, in the end). Adrien hadn’t pushed further, being the amazing and understanding human being that he was.

She briefly considered dressing up and bringing a change of clothes in her bag, having Adrien drop her off to a nearby boutique and walk to  _ Ever After.  _

In the meantime, Marinette was painfully aware that it couldn’t work in the long run, and that she’d have to give up her carefully kept secret of the last three years sooner or later. Better do it right away and spare herself useless weeks of anxiety.

Stepping out of her room at last, she greeted the blond, amazed to see how relaxed he looked. Looking at him, you could never guess they had downed three bottles of wine the day before, nor that anything out of the ordinary had transpired between them. Adrien was busy behind the kitchen counter, snapping shut two travel mugs. Seemingly feeling fresh as a daisy, he beamed at her. “Morning Sleeping Beauty! Do you usually put sugar and milk in your coffee? I brewed it a bit stronger than I tend to, I think we both need it this morning.”

Baffled by the bubbly and smiling blond, Marinette clutched her purse on her heart, stuttering weakly, “A lot of milk and no sugar, please. You seem particularly cheerful this morning, did you get some good news or something?”

Adrien blushed slightly, reaching to scratch the back of his neck nervously, “I’m really enjoying this, you know? I don’t want to make things weird between us or make you think I’m glad you just lost everything … but having a friendly face in the apartment, having someone to look after and share my days with… It’s a new feeling for me, and I love it a lot. Sorry if I’m making this awkward.”

That sealed the deal inside Marinette’s head. No way Adrien could be so happy, so perky and lighthearted had he tried (and failed) to kiss her the previous evening. She mentally cursed her deranged imagination, and forced a small smile on her lips. “Don’t worry, I get the general idea.”

The blinding smile he offered her in answer only shattered her heart a little bit further.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Adrien’s car was going down the street of her workplace, and anxiety was pooling in Marinette’s stomach. 

“So,” the blond asked, his eyes on the road, “which of these upscale boutiques has the honor to employ Marinette Dupain-Cheng, best fashion designer in Paris?”

This was it. She had to tell him, to untie the knot painfully tugging at her insides. To reveal the lie she had been feeding everyone on the sole purpose of being left alone with her failures. “None.”

Adrien stiffened beside her, and pulled up on the roadside, stopping the car to fully look at her. His emerald eyes were full of concern, and Marinette felt her breath hitch in her throat. He sighed, shaking his head somewhat sadly, and took her hand into his own, gently caressing her fingers with his thumb. “Nice try, little trickster, but some of us actually enjoy being on time at work. So, which is it?”

Marinette averted her eyes, whispering shamefully. “I just told you. None.”

Adrien’s voice was shocked, yet full of softness when he spoke again, “I thought you were working as a junior designer in some fancy Parisian fashion boutique. Have you been hiding your real job from everyone all of this time?”

She barely managed to nod, the knot in her stomach suffocating her all of a sudden. His expression grew into entirely something else, like he was sorry for her, but more than anything, an understanding she had never expected to meet, let alone deserve. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, caring. “You don’t have anything to prove to anyone. Any job that puts bread on the table is a worthy job. After all, you’re looking at a former international model who gave everything up to be a humble physics teacher for reckless and loud teenagers.”

Marinette smiled shyly, carefully averting her gaze from his. “I… I didn’t want anybody to know how badly I’ve failed to follow my dreams.”

Adrien shrugged dismissively, his eyes searching hers to offer some kind of reassurance. “Life sometimes has other plans for us than what we would like. I’ve never dreamed of basically being an orphan solely relying on his close friends for any human contact, and yet here I am. And you’re only twenty-three, Mari. It isn’t too late to make your dreams happen if you truly want them to become reality.”

The young lady carefully eyed her friend, her heart still stuck somewhere between her chest and her mouth. But she didn’t read anything other than genuine affection in the familiar green eyes, didn’t see any form of judgment in the blond’s demeanor. So Marinette whispered half-heartedly, her eyes stubbornly fixed on her knees, “I work at  _ Ever After. _ ”

Surprised, Adrien let go of her hand, eyeing her carefully, just like he was afraid she would dissolve into fumes under his piercing gaze. “Rose Lavillant’s wedding planning business?”

Fumbling with the strap of her purse, Marinette mumbled, “Yes. I’ve been a wedding cake decorator for her for the last three years or so. Considering I can’t create anything worthy anymore, my next best option was to put my parents’ teaching to good use. Rose agreed to keep it a secret, especially from our old classmates, so it was kinda a win-win situation.”

Adrien smiled, firing up the car engine again, “That’s cool. You can bring home all the work you want, I won’t complain at all.” He said with a kind smile, driving the few meters still separating them from  _ Ever After.  _ Pulling up once again in front of the cute (and way too pink) shop, he reached to grab her hand into his once more, lightly squeezing it in encouragement. “What time should I pick you up?”

“School’s over at four?” Marinette asked, still looking away from him. When he agreed, she smiled softly. “I usually get off at three, but I’ll keep working until you’re ready to pick me up. Rose won’t mind, she’s a real sweetheart. Besides, we’re behind on a few orders.”

The blond nodded, still smiling warmly. “Have a nice day, and please say hi to Rose and Juleka on my behalf.” Marinette acquiesced and reluctantly left the shelter provided by the black car, an unpleasant pressure still weighing in her stomach. Before she could close the car door, however, Adrien’s voice stopped her, “And don’t worry, Mari, your secret’s safe with me. My lips are sealed.”

He flashed her one last blinding smile as she closed the car door, driving toward the college where he taught physics to a bunch of lucky students. Marinette took a second to gather her thoughts, trying to shake the unpleasant feeling that she had just bared her very soul to her unexpected roommate. Unfortunately, her arrival hadn’t nearly gone as unnoticed as she would have liked, and her boss latched herself on her arm, loudly squealing, “Oh my God! Mari! Was that  _ Adrien Agreste?” _

The young woman groaned loudly as she tore herself from the overeager Rose grinning from ear-to-ear. “Yes, it was Adrien. He says hi, by the way.”

“Driving you to work at seven a.m. on a Monday morning? Has a certain someone finally snapped out of her everlasting celibacy?” the blonde woman teased, opening the door for them both to enter the small but cozy little office.

Marinette sighed, her headache suddenly returning with a vengeance. “We’re friends. Friends commute together. Don’t get carried away.”

“Carried away by what?” slyly asked a mischievous redhead, rising from his drawing bench. “Has our little Marinette finally surrendered her heart to someone?”

“Shut up, Nate,” Marinette answered dryly, heading to her work station without bothering to look at her colleagues. She could feel the heavy stares of Juleka, Rose and Nathanael on herself as she took the fondant and icing containers out of her fridge, preparing for the day ahead of her. 

As she settled her working tools on her counter, she could hear Rose gushing about how Adrien had driven her to work that morning, and how romantic it was that the pair would reunite after all those years apart. Her throbbing headache was beginning to overwhelm her, and she could feel her heart squeeze painfully in her chest as unwelcome ideas of being more than friends with Adrien began to form against her will. Hearing those words prompted faint memories of another toothy grin imprinted achingly in her heart, and she couldn’t help but snap, her patience running short all of a sudden. 

“Nate. Don’t we have a cake to decorate instead of speculating on my nonexistent love life? Where’s my design? How am I supposed to work if you gossip instead of drawing?”

Startled by the unfamiliar harshness of her tone, the redhead scrambled to provide the demanded file, warily eyeing his highschool friend. “Don’t take it like that, Mari, we’re just having fun--”

Marinette snapped, “It’s none of your business. My apartment burned down, and I’m stuck living with Adrien for the time being. He’s only offering me shelter until I get back on my feet. That’s all you need to know.” She growled, her eyes strained on the cake she was angrily icing. 

A stunned silence answered her from all corners for a heartbeat before Rose shrilled, “Oh my God! Are you okay? Do you need anything? Why are you even here? You didn’t need to come in after something so traumatic, you should have taken the day off! Why—”

Marinette closed her eyes, appalled at herself for letting it slip so easily. She didn’t want sympathy or pity, she just wanted to take her mind off loving green eyes and her life in general, and bury herself in her work. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to work. Just… Let me work.”

The coldness of her voice, coupled with the way she tightened her lips and buried herself into cake designs without sparing her colleagues another single glance, effectively sealed the deal. Any unwanted question was carefully ignored, and after several gentle attempts by Rose to coax Marinette into talking were met with a chill icier than the freezers, people finally left her work in a heavy silence.

When Adrien finally picked her up that night, he was surprised to find his former classmate pacing on the sidewalk, her fists tightly clenched beside her. She got in the car without any form of greeting, and fixed her gaze through the window, unable to bring herself to meet his worried eyes. 

“Are you okay, Mari? Did something happen?”

His question was met with a stubborn silence, so he eventually sighed and put the car back into motion. Balled up on the seat next to him, Marinette was busy hating herself for letting her foul mood rub off on him, but she couldn’t help herself. From the made-up near-kiss fiasco to Rose’s good-hearted teasing about the nature of her relationship with her friend, she felt like the universe was throwing constant reminders at her. Reminders of how she could have been with her partner, how she could have loved him all of those years had she listened to him and given up on their identities.

And it stung. Badly.

As she wished yet another time that she could go back in time and tell him how much he meant to her before losing him, she silently prayed that Adrien wouldn’t notice the lone tear sliding down her cheek.


	6. Harsh Words

As soon as they reached the apartment, Marinette walked straight into her room without sparing him a single glance, her arms wrapped around herself in a protective manner. As he closed the door behind them, stunned by his friend’s sudden departure, Adrien couldn’t hold back a frustrated noise.

He loved Marinette dearly, she was one of his first friends and he wanted nothing more than to help her move forward with her life, help her take the long overdue path toward healing. But she was apparently broken further than he had thought, making it a greater challenge than he ever could have expected.

For every step forward he seemed to make with his friend, he seemed to take a hundred back the following second.

He had enjoyed every minute of their time together the day before, laughing and chatting with her like neither of them had a care in the world. He knew that it was merely a facade, a carefully maintained composure, but at least she had been smiling, and for a second he had thought that he would manage to make her open up a little.

True, how exactly he had ended up sleeping on his couch was kind of a blur to him, but seeing as they had seemed fine that morning, he didn’t muse about that too much.

Which left him to square one. What, the hell, could’ve happened during the day for her to be back to her silent and grieving self by the time he came to pick her up?

Defeated, Adrien stared at her closed door for a minute, furiously racking his brain in search of a way to fix this mess, of coaxing her out of her room first, then out of her shell. When he came up empty-handed, he gave an uneasy sigh, removing his jacket and powering up his laptop on the kitchen counter.

“Well, it would seem it’s only me, myself and I tonight, like good old times,” he mumbled to himself, yet again cursing his lack of foresight when the Ladyblog was the first website to load.

Five years, and he had yet to gather enough courage to change his settings, to let go of that last anchor to a past he wasn’t worthy of anymore.

The article making the headlines that night caught his attention, and the young man found himself reading Alya’s article despite his better judgment. Five years without akumas or anything worthy of mention had assured a definite slowing in the reporter’s superhero-related writing. The first few weeks following Hawkmoth’s defeat had been all about speculations on Chat Noir’s sudden disappearance and current whereabouts, about what had really happened during the final fight. The subsequent months had been solely focused on Ladybug: who, what was she waiting for every single night? Why did she suit up every single night without fail is there was no more supervillain to battle? Why Chat Noir had abandoned her?

Tonight’s was different, though. Paris’s citizens had noticed a change in their heroine unwavering habits, and they were worried about the possible implications. According to the Ladyblog, Ladybug hadn’t been spotted all night the previous evening, a first ever since her partner’s untimely disappearance, and had spent the night before running across the rooftops instead of patiently waiting in her usual spot. Of course, this sudden change in a five-year-old routine had unsettled the civilians, and speculations about a possible new threat were going wild in the comments section.

Sighing, Adrien shook his head has he closed the page, instead pulling up his music player. They were all reading too much in this. If there had really been a threat to the public safety, she would have made an official statement of some sort. It was unlike her to go about those things in secrecy.

If it was to be realistic, she probably just had finally given up on uselessly waiting for him, had finally understood that he wasn’t going to show up and surrender himself to her rightful wrath. The night she had spent running was probably only her trying to carve the sensations in her memory, one last run, one last transformation before giving up on her miraculous for good.

Not that he’d blame her if she had. If it had only been up to him, it was long overdue. She needed to give up, she needed to move on. She owed it to herself.

A longing glance to Marinette’s still closed bedroom sent a familiar pang of pain in his chest. It was to avoid the unpleasant bite of the loneliness on evenings like this that he had been that much eager to have her move in with him, that he had been so keen on helping her back on her feet. Adrien couldn’t take those nights musing about _what-ifs_ anymore, and he had been hoping that having a roommate, someone to take care of, would distract him from his own pain.

No such luck tonight.

Watching the closed door, a cunning idea made its way in his mind, and he smirked to himself. Back then, Plagg used to complain all the time about his charge’s singing skill (or lack of, for that matter.) On more than one occasion, the kwami had insisted on the fact that Adrien could probably wake up the dead with his falsetto.

Time to see if his voice, short of bringing back deceased people, could at least coax an upset roommate out of her bedroom.

Grinning mischievously, the blond chose a song and began belting _Astronaut’_ s lyrics along with Simple Plan’s singer. “ _Can anybody hear me / Or am I talking to myself_ ” he sang, opening the cupboards and pulling out the ingredients he’d need to fix dinner. Wiggling his hips to the beat of the music, he began chopping vegetables, still watching Marinette’s door from the corner of his eyes.

“ _Can anybody tell me why / I'm lonely like a satellite?”_ he went on, along with the music, making a point to sing at the top of his lungs, as badly as he could. “ _All the lonely people that the world forgot / If you hear my voice, come pick me up,”_ he heated up an iron skillet, unable to wipe his shit-eating grin from his face as he sauteed some shrimps and scallops along with the vegetables he had previously prepped.

The song came to an end all too soon, without a living sign from his blue-eyed friend. She wanted to play hard to get? No problem, he was going to be up to her challenge. Choosing another song from his playlist, the cheesiest he could find, he happily resumed his singing (accordingly more akin to yowling) and went on with fixing their dinner.

He was halfway through wailing his third rendition of " _All by myself_ " when her bedroom door finally cracked open, revealing a slightly taken aback Marinette, oddly hugging her Chat Noir plushie to her chest. Tightly holding the toy like it was some sort of precious token, she approached him tentatively, like a wild animal afraid of the unknown, and shyly peered at him with red, swollen eyes. "Why does it sound like you've been slaughtering a calf for the past hour?"

A small, shy smile was tugging at the corner of her lips, and Adrien decided to play along. He placed a hand above his heart, looking at her with an exaggerated pout. “Ouch. You wound me, Mari. Here I was, hoping to pursue a musical career someday.”

She laughed half-heartedly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes yet. Perching herself on one of the stools, Marinette stretched to change the song playing on his laptop to something less depressing and lowering the volume. “I’m sorry to break your dreams, Adrien, but unless you get yourself a vocal chords transplant, your career is already over.”

There it was. Her sass, her feisty little persona. The blond inwardly smiled to himself. He knew that she was still in there, somewhere, tending her wounds underneath the thick shell the young woman had built around herself. Putting up a show of swooning dramatically, Adrien laughed, “Oh no! My heart! It’s broken! I’ll never perform on Broadway now!”

“Well, apparently you’re quite the actor, maybe you should pursue that instead.”

Chuckling, he produced her plate with a flourish, bowing down in front of her. “Dinner is served, princess.”

Marinette gave him an odd look, but nodded nonetheless and took the plate he was handing her, eagerly popping a shrimp into her mouth. “It’s delicious, thanks.”

Looking back, Adrien had to admit that his next move was a mistake. But he was tired, Marinette was smiling at him softly over her plate, and for a single second, he allowed himself to forget. To believe, foolishly, that things weren’t broken, that her life wasn’t a complete mess.

He took a bite from his own plate, and looked at her expectantly. “So, what happened today? What’s bothering you to the point of hiding in your bedroom?”

She froze, her fork halted mid-air. Marinette lifted wide and afraid eyes toward him, her lower lip quivering. “I… I don’t want to talk about it. I’m… I’m really sorry.”

She made to get up, but Adrien’s voice stopped her before she could leave her chair, like a bucket of ice dropped on her head. “I thought we were making progress, you and me. I thought that maybe, only maybe, you could trust me.”

“I trust-”

“You need to talk to someone, Mari. Whatever it is, it’s clearly eating you alive.” he insisted, his patience suddenly wearing thin.

She closed her eyes, obviously fighting off tears. “I’m going to therapy. I talk to Dr. Ellis.”

“And what good has it done to you so far?”

Marinette stood up then, grabbing her Chat Noir doll and pressing it on her heart, like a child holding to her security blanket. “You don’t know anything. Stop making assumptions about me, Adrien.”

Unable to bear the lingering tension any longer, Adrien dropped his fork on his plate, startling her. “You know what?” he snarled, his irritation finally taking the best of him. “You’re not the only one who’s hurting. My mother’s dead, my father’s in jail, I’ve pushed the only woman I’ve ever loved away, and yet you don’t see me going around making everyone pay for my sorrows.”

Marinette gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, but he went on anyway. “You have a family that loves you more than anything, friends that are ready to give up everything to help you get back on your feet, but you keep shutting everyone out.”

He got up and walked to the living room window, unable to stand being seated any longer. “I don’t know what wound you’ve been nursing for all these years, but if you keep pushing everyone away like that you’ll end up alone with no one to blame but yourself.”

Too caught up in his anger, Adrien missed the look of sheer hurt that crossed Marinette’s features. Had he seen it, he may have been able to stop his frustrated rant on time, might have been able to backpedal, to somehow soften the blow of his words. He didn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes, didn’t see when her starting to shake violently. He didn’t notice her walking to the front door without stopping to grab her coat, didn’t hear the sob she failed to suppress.

He did, however, hear the door slam shut behind her, and instantly regretted his harsh words. Even if they were bearing truth, he could have worded it better, could have taken her already obviously hurt feelings into account. Part of him already longed for her, wanted to go after her and apologize, wanted to redeem himself for adding his own frustrations to her already full plate.

But seeing as he had been the one to deliver the last blow, Adrien wasn’t sure of how well his worries would be received by his broken friend. Sighing frustratedly, he pulled out his phone and opened his messaging client.

_[Adrien] I’m really sorry I snapped at you. Please come back home._

He stared, helpless, at the little digital device, hoping to see _Marinette is typing…_ appear beneath his message.

It stubbornly kept displaying _Message read_ instead.


	7. Life on Pause

Marinette slammed the apartment door behind her, desperately clutching onto the plush in her hands. It was childish, silly even, but the doll was a faint reassurance to her, like it was a small part of her lost partner that was still her own to love and cherish. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave the last sliver of comfort she had behind, not when she felt like she choked on oxygen as the sky itself collapsed on her.

As she exited the building, barreling down into the street, she felt her phone vibrate once in her pants back pocket. Seeing as it was a message from Adrien, the young woman chose to ignore it, along with the bite of the evening cold on her bare arms, and instead quickened her pace. She wanted to put as much distance as humanly possible between them, between her and her disintegrating life.

Taking shelter in the ambient darkness, Tikki floated in front of her charge, a disapproving look on her small face. “Adrien’s going to worry about you, Marinette, you’re being unfair to—”

“Spots on.” Marinette cut her, conscious that she was going to hear an earful from the kwami later. She couldn’t bear hearing the reproaches in her little friend’s voice, not after facing Adrien’s wrath. As soon as the familiar magic enveloped her, she took off, swinging herself as far and as high as she could. She felt like her heart had been bared for all the world to see. Life was suddenly having a blast rubbing salt in her barely healed wound, annihilating any little progress she had managed to make ever since Chat Noir’s disappearance. Constant reminders of his absence, of her mistakes, of her failures. 

Tears streaming freely down her face, she jumped from rooftop to rooftop recklessly, taking useless risks and overexerting her body. She toppled over some balcony, tripping on thin air and crashing loudly among the flower pots. The window slammed open over her, and a loud gasp pierced the evening. “Oh my God! Ladybug! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

The heroine groaned weakly, scrambling back to her feet and launching her yoyo away without looking at a worried Alya, who stared dumbfounded as the polka dotted woman flew away. Ladybug knew that ignoring the reporter without giving her some sort of explanation was a mistake, that her mishap would be plastered all over the Ladyblog the following day. After all, Alya had been grasping at the little straws she could for the past five years, she would be a fool to let this golden occasion pass. But Ladybug couldn’t bring herself to care, not when she was barely able to keep herself together. She missed another childishly easy landing, her vision blurrier by the second, her blood pounding in her ears.

Her earrings suddenly started beeping furiously without their usual countdown. Surprised, Ladybug stumbled through a landing and had to catch herself on a nearby railway with her yoyo. As soon as she landed in a secluded alley, the familiar pink light engulfed her, and the Chat Noir doll fell back into her arms. An obviously pissed Tikki flew in front of her, her little arms crossed in front of her, “You can't do this to yourself anymore. It's all been building for a while and you've let it control your life! I know it feels like you've lost everything, and believe me, I miss our home too, but you're pushing away the people who care about you the most! You can't run from this anymore, Marinette. You have to face your choices.”

“Tikki…” breathed softly Marinette, defeated.

“There are so many people willing to help you, if you just let them. I know Adrien's anger may seem unfair, but he knows nothing of what you're going through because you won't talk. Did you think your friends would ignore your slow decline? They love you. I love you. I have always been here for you and I won't forgive myself if anything were to happen to you.”

Stunned by her kwami unusual outburst, Marinette bowed her head down, trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill over once again. 

“Please, you need to calm down,” Tikki added, her voice somewhat softer, “but no more gallivanting on the rooftops for tonight. I can’t force you to do anything, but Adrien is right, Marinette, you need to  _ talk _ . I’ll transform you back once you’re calmer, so you can get home.” And with a last, soft smile at her charge, the kwami flew out of view, leaving the young woman alone with her thoughts.

Marinette bit back a sob, letting her precious friend’s words sink in. Painfully.

The worst part of it all was that she knew Adrien was right. That Tikki was right. That everyone was right. She had been unfair to the people that loved her, had selfishly made them suffer along with her. Adrien had been nothing short of understanding and helpful toward her despite not owing her anything, and yet, here she was, snapping at him out of all people, pushing the kind blond beyond his limits to the point of him snapping back at her. 

She knew he was rightfully angry with her.

But it didn’t hurt less. Far from it.

She buried her nose into the plush’s golden hair, whimpering pitifully. What wouldn’t she give to get her partner back, to have the real deal back by her side instead of a stuffed toy to cling onto, to ease that hollow feeling he had left behind, to retrieve the safe haven he had always been to her.

Five years was a long time. 

If he was still alive, still somewhere out there, he could be married, have a family of his own. He could be going on with his life like he had never been a superhero at all, like he had never left a heartbroken partner behind. Maybe he had fled the country after Hawkmoth’s defeat, and didn’t have any means of contacting her anymore?

If she was completely honest with herself, somewhere, deep inside, Marinette knew that Chat Noir would be disappointed in her if he ever was to witness the mess she had let her life plummet to. Never in his life would he have wanted her to give up on her dreams on his behalf, to push everyone away for a lack of an explanation to her constant grieving, to spend her nights searching for him at the price of her health and her sanity. To put her whole life on pause because she was unable to figure out how to go on without him.

Chat Noir would truly be brokenhearted to see what remained of his fierce Lady.

But despite knowing this, despite wanting with every fiber of her being to make him proud, to honor his memory, she just couldn’t.

Not without  _ knowing.  _ Not without  _ answers. _

She was aware that all her anger, all her pain should’ve been directed toward him, instead of toward everyone else. But her worries for the leather-clad hero were stifling her. She couldn’t bring herself to resent the feline without  _ knowing _ . Being angry with him wouldn’t do any good then. Part of her refused to believe that he had willingly abandoned her. Not after all they have been through together, not after all the times he had professed his love to her.  _ Something  _ was keeping her silly minou away from her, and not knowing  _ what,  _ if he needed  _ help,  _ if he was waiting for  _ her  _ to come for him, it was eating her alive.

What had truly happened, five years prior? What if he’d been hurt? Or worse? Had he hidden an injury from her in the midst of their fight and bled to death, alone and scared, in a filthy alleyway? Had the second cataclysm he had conjured to destroy the akuma Hawkmoth was about to unleash upon them been too much to bear for him? What if the magic had consumed him, or had somehow given him amnesia?

Memories of what should’ve been one of her happiest days flooded her mind, and she had to close her eyes for a second to suppress the familiar feeling of the pain clutching at her insides, making it hard to breathe, to see clearly, let alone walk.

Chat Noir and she had fallen into a trap, that dreadful afternoon. Three akumas had attacked simultaneously, something that had never happened before. On three separate occasions, one of them had reluctantly had to abandon the other to go and recharge their kwami, only to come back to the fight slightly more bedraggled, slightly less focused than the time prior. By the time they had managed to bring the last akuma down and cure the butterfly, they were both bruised and bone-weary.

That’s when Hawkmoth had struck.

The entire fight against their archenemy was a blur. She had been way beyond exhausted, had used three lucky charms so far that day, and she could feel Tikki’s magic waver dangerously within her. She remembered faintly lurching forward to push Chat Noir out of the way of an incoming attack, but the next thing she knew she was dangling a few feet above the ground, with so much pressure on her throat that her vision was fading alarmingly quick.

She distinctly remembered Chat Noir’s angry yowl, though, before her body hit the ground with a soft thud.

Once her eyes had managed to focus again, she had seen the sheer terror in his eyes when he had finally ripped the butterfly miraculous from Hawkmoth’s throat, saving her life at the same time. Their gazes had met for a brief second, a pause before all hell broke loose. And she had seen it, the raw pain in the beautiful green eyes she loved so much, the fear plastered all over his face. 

At the moment, she had figured that it was remnants of how close Hawkmoth had come to snap her neck right in front of him, but thankfully Chat Noir had rushed forward just in time, freeing her from the deadly grip. She had had bruises on her throat for weeks onward after the final fight, but she had  _ lived.  _ All thanks to her partner.

That was the last time their eyes had met, though. He had carefully avoided her gaze from that point forward, manhandling Hawkmoth’s civilian identity with slightly more strength than it would’ve been necessary and remaining stubbornly, desperately silent. His shoulders definitely slumped under the leather suit, he had pushed Gabriel Agreste inside the waiting police car unceremoniously and promptly used his staff to vault himself away without answering a single question from the elated media.

Without sparing his puzzled partner a parting glance.

A sob caught in her throat as the overbearing memory of that last image of him burned into her heart yet again. Angrily wiping the tears spilling on her cheeks unbidden, Marinette tried to take in her surroundings, to figure where her aimless steps had taken her.

Only to find herself standing in front of their statue.

It felt like a punch right in her stomach. Theo had done an amazing job, rendering every single detail of the heroes faithfully. Ladybug looked ready to fly away at any given second, the smile on her face forever carved in the metal. Beneath her was crouching her long-lost partner, his signature smirk perfectly represented and causing a stabbing pain to her already bruised heart. 

This was more than Marinette could take. Adrien’s earlier words, the memories tearing her heart apart, finding herself face to face with a life-sized representation of the man she missed and loved so much, it was all too much and she dissolved into a mess of sobs and hiccups, not even registering the comforting pats of Tikki on her arm. Blinded by her tears, she clumsily climbed onto the pedestal, her hand cupping the cold cheek. “Why did you leave me?” she choked out, unable to restrain herself anymore. “I miss you… I need you, Kitty, I need you more than ever. Please, please come back to me, wherever you are.”

Pressing herself against the cold metal, her forehead resting on Chat Noir’s inert cheek and the toy tightly clutched into her arms, Marinette closed her eyes and let her pain flow freely.

_ This last scene has been inspired by [this comic](https://portentous-offerings.tumblr.com/post/154625719968/guess-now-is-as-good-a-time-as-ever-to-post-this) _ [   
](https://portentous-offerings.tumblr.com/post/154625719968/guess-now-is-as-good-a-time-as-ever-to-post-this) _ (I’ve asked permission to include this in this story, since it was fitting so perfectly) _


	8. Sorry

Adrien tied up his shoes hastily, awkwardly holding his phone against his ear with his right shoulder and trying his best to avoid dropping it. Marinette had been gone for about two hours now, and was stubbornly refusing to answer her phone. So far, he had called her a total of seventeen times, not that he had counted, and sent twenty-one messages, without any luck. His worries were beginning to overcome him. In any other circumstances, he would have let her vent, and apologize thoroughly for his thoughtlessness upon her return. But it was late, she hadn’t taken her coat with her, she had nowhere to go and she was upset.

No matter how he thought about the dire situation he recklessly had put them in, he couldn’t imagine a single scenario where being alone in the cold, distressed and basically homeless could be a good cocktail for a pretty young lady. Not that he doubted that Marinette could pretty well fend for herself when she was in the right frame of mind, but the events that had unfolded that night were a recipe for disaster.

Nathanael sighed on the other side on the line, visibly exasperated by the late phone call. “I don’t have a clue, Adrien. Marinette’s pretty secretive.”

“Doesn’t she have favorite spots in the city?” Adrien almost barked as he grabbed Marinette’s and his coat. “Places that soothe her? Anything useful? She isn’t at the bakery, I already checked with Sabine and Tom, and Alya and Nino haven’t heard from her tonight either.”

“Like I first said when you called,” the redhead insisted, “she’s not the same Marinette we knew and loved back in college. She’s… I don’t know Adrien, it’s like she’s broken. I don’t even know why Rose bothers keeping her, I know she’s our friend and all, but she’s only tackling technical work. No matter how I care for her, she’s merely a dead weight for the company, and she’s pushing everyone who tries to help her away.”

Adrien had to physically restrain himself from smashing his phone into the wall. He didn’t care the slightest if the stupid artist thought Marinette deserved her unfulfilling job or not, he wanted Marinette back to safety. Back to _their home._ “Nate…” he snarled warningly.

Nathanael sighed once again, and Adrien heard what he thought was a stifled yawn on the other side of the line. “Well, the only place I can think of is this park near her parent’s bakery, I know Alya and she used to spend a lot of time there, before Mari started to change.”

Adrien was about to snap at him for being as useless as tits on a bull when the front door suddenly cracked open, revealing a somewhat sheepish Marinette. Her face was covered with tear streaks, she was desperately holding onto the Chat Noir plush he had bought her and she was pretty disheveled, but she at least seemed to be in one piece, safe and sound, physically speaking. The young man released a relieved sigh, smiling at her reassuringly.

“Thank God, Mari!” he let out in a breath, before speaking harshly into his phone. “Nevermind, she’s back. Thanks for nothing.” Not leaving time to his interlocutor to answer, Adrien hastily hung up the phone and dropped it beside his car keys. Without further ado, he closed the distance between them in two long strides and gathered her lithe, freezing body into a bone-crushing hug. Ignoring the surprised gasp she made at the tender gesture, he burrowed his nose in her hair, refusing to let go of her just yet.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked against his skin, finally dropping the toy on the ground and returning the hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Surprised, Adrien pulled back slightly, holding her by the shoulders and looking at her expectantly. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Marinette. It’s me, I was way out of line, and I—”

“No,” she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears again, “I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m sorry for running away and worrying you…”

Adrien closed his arms back around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, enveloping her in a bear-like hug, his fingers drawing soothing circles in her back. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed your boundaries.” He sighed against her skin, somewhat reluctant to put distance between them. “I won’t lie though, Mari. I’m really worried about you. Whatever it is that’s hurting you, it’s consuming you, and I can’t stand sitting on the bleachers while you’re self-destructing in front of me.”

She tensed slightly within his arms, but didn’t pull away. Adrien took that opening, and tentatively brought a hand to gently stroke the dark hair of his friend, “I do get that you’re hurt. But should you ever need to talk, even if it’s just to vent without giving me any explanation or context of some sort, I want you to know that I’m here for you nonetheless. I meant what I said the other night, I wanna be the person you can lean on through thick and thin, Mari.”

He felt her stiffen considerably against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he thought that he had gone too far, that he had pushed the wrong button again. Against all odds and to his utter shock, her slender arms wrapped tighter around his waist, and he heard a faint sniffle softened by his shirt. Dumbfounded, Adrien backpedaled abruptly, horrified with himself, “Mari? I … Forget that, it’s alright. Why… Why are you crying?”

To Adrien’s sheer astonishment, she began talking.

Her voice a little muffled by his now slightly damp shirt, her fists balled up at the small of his back, Marinette finally cracked the safely guarded door of her heart open for him.

“I’ve lost someone,” she said quietly, her voice cracking up a little on the last word, “someone who meant the whole world to me.”

His breath hitched in his throat and his pulse seemed to skip a beat. His fingers stilled in her back as he focused entirely on the woman cradled in his arms, unaware of just how much her next words would hit him like a freight train.

“I loved him so much, he was my very best friend, I trusted him with my life. He was everything to me.”

Adrien winced despite himself, barely suppressing a pitiful whimper. Why did hearing her speak of that mysterious man like that, admitting so wholeheartedly and without the shadow of a hesitation her feelings for that ghost of her past, stung this much? He had no claim on the young woman whatsoever, what the heck was wrong with him? As he tried uselessly to slow the crazy beating of his heart, the faint and blurry memory of a drunken and brief kiss came back haunting his mind. He dismissed it promptly, blaming once again the heavy amount of wine he had drunk that night and his vivid imagination. 

“I miss him. I miss him so much,” Marinette resumed, apparently blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. “Each and every day without him, it feels like it hurts a little bit further, like the wound deepens instead of healing. It’s like I just can’t go on without him by my side, without him to rely on.”

She paused, her fingers still balled in fists in his back. Her shoulders shook slightly, and Adrien heard her swallow a sob painfully. When she spoke again, her voice was a little more subdued, weaker.

“The worst part is that I never got to tell him how much he meant to me, how much I loved him. And now he’ll never know. All because I was too much of a coward to let him know. To try and be with him. I… I can’t help but wonder. What if? If I had told him, would things have unfolded differently? Would he still be here?”

“Hey,” Adrien interrupted her rant, pulling back from her just enough to be able to look into the bluebell eyes. Ignoring the uncomfortable pull at his own heartstrings upon hearing her unexpected confession, he willed a soft smile on his lips. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

She looked surprised, her tear-filled eyes widening as she croaked out, “Do what?”

“Whatever happened to him, you need to stop blaming yourself like that. What is done is done, and obsessing over  _ what if _ s won’t change anything about that,” Adrien said, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek gently. “I would know. I lost someone dear to me too.”

She leaned into his touch, and it took him all his self-control to refrain himself from closing the few centimeters fleeting between their lips. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her and to show her how much she meant to him, how much he was willing to do to nurse her back to health.

Those thoughts struck him by surprise, and he suddenly felt like the air around them was thick and heavy. Breathing was laborious, and he was pretty sure his heart has forgotten how to beat properly in his chest.

He had always openly been quite fond of his friend, even if he was a little disheartened at how little he knew about her up until recently. He had never entertained romantic ideas toward her, for the sole reason that his heart was still busy tending to the wound it had sustained five years prior in the midst of his father’s imprisonment. But standing in the middle of his living room, with the broken young woman sobbing quietly in his arms, a protectiveness he had only ever felt toward Ladybug flared within him without warning. 

Adrien knew right this second that he was done for.

He had somehow fallen for Marinette over the last few days. 

And hard.

Just his luck, he had to go and become hopelessly smitten with a woman who had spent the last five years mourning in silence the man she very obviously still loved with every fiber of her being.

Completely unaware of the chaos breaking loose in her friend’s mind, Marinette smiled softly at him through her tears, “Right, your mother. I’m sorry, I’m being selfish here.”

Adrien smiled at her gently. “Don’t be sorry. We’ll go through this together, okay? You’re no longer on your own, Mari. Let me help you, please.”

She nodded weakly, before resting her head back against his shoulder. Adrien gulped painfully as the young woman resumed sobbing quietly within his embrace, letting go of a five-year-old pain. He let his own thoughts drift away, trying to figure out what to do with the evening revelations.

After a while, her breathing deepened considerably, and a glance down confirmed him that Marinette had cried herself to sleep. A tired smile grazed his lips as he gathered her small figure in his arms, bridal style, and carried her to her bedroom. He clumsily managed to pull down her covers without waking her up, and gently tucked her in.

Staring at her sleeping form, looking utterly minuscule as she curled up upon herself on her bed, Adrien felt a familiar pang clutching at his insides. She might not love him the way he had just realized he did, but it was clear as day that she needed someone to look after her. Pursuing her was the very last thing she needed, but maybe, just maybe, if he was patient and caring enough, he could nestle himself a comfortable spot in her heart through the little crack she just had made him.

The loneliness had been driving him crazy for the best part of his life, and he was more than willing to be whoever she wanted or needed him to be. His feelings for her might’ve snuck up on him unexpectedly, but they were growing stronger by the minute.

Before giving in to his urge of climbing into the bed next to her and cuddle with her until morning, he quickly exited her room, only to almost step on her plush. He briefly considered the toy, her obvious affection for his gift puzzling him. On a whim, he went back to her and laid the toy next to her arm. Almost instantly, she reached for it in her sleep, and hugged it to her chest like it was her most treasured possession.

A fond smile crept upon his lips, and this time he couldn’t resist the urge to lean over Marinette, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”

Reluctantly, he went back to his own too big, too cold, empty bed but for the first time in five years, moving on suddenly seemed possible.


	9. Mistakes

_ Now I wake up and I forget that you were gone _ __  
_ A phantom limb is all that I am hanging on _ __  
_ So don't stop, no stopping it yet _ __  
_ What if the one true love's the only one that you get? _ __  
_ And you've been wishing but you don't know how to stay _ __  
_ And I've been broken but I'm better every day _ __  
_ So don't stop, no stoppin' it yet _ __  
_ What if the one true love's the only one that you get? _ _  
_ [ __ (Marianas Trench, One Love, Astoria (2015)) ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPcDfLrzx3Y)

* * *

As soon as her bedroom door closed behind Adrien, Marinette’s eyes jerked open. She had woken up slightly when he had given her her plush, but the feeling of his lips pressed against her skin had dismissed any remnants of sleep. Replaying hopelessly the events of the evening over and over again in her mind, she tossed and turned for far too long as far as she was concerned. Ultimately, she whimpered pitifully in the darkness, “Tikki?”

Her little friend gently nudged her cheek, making her position known. “Yes, Marinette?”

“Did … did you hear?”

The kwami remained silent for a moment, worrying her charge. When she did speak, though, her voice was soft, reassuring. “I did.”

“He called me princess.”

It wasn’t a question, Marinette was merely stating the fact as it was. Long repressed memories of a leather-clad hero sprung on her without warning; a cat sitting on the railing of her balcony, back at the bakery, teasing her relentlessly about having fallen asleep in her chair. She reached for the doll lying beside her in the bed, hugging the toy to her chest just as she had done countless times before that day. And she remembered.

Two teenagers playfully bantering among potted plants, the feline helping her with science homework, somehow always dropping by every time she was struggling with one. Ultimate Mecha Strike III improvised tournaments in the dead of the night, almost always ending with her scolding her friend for being too loud and risking waking up her parents. Heartfelt discussions over hot chocolates and cookies, half-worded confessions about his poor life at home, his laugh as she frowned upon hearing a particularly bad pun.

“Chat used to call me princess,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Again, Tikki gently patted her charge’s cheek, trying to convey as much love and support she could through the simple gesture. “Do you want to go back out for a bit?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” asked Marinette, surprised. After all, her kwami had scolded her a few hours prior for transforming untimely.

“It usually calms you down, and it’s obvious you won’t be able to go back to sleep just yet. Just promise me to go straight to your spot, no more running on rooftops tonight, understood?”

The young woman smiled in the darkness, absentmindedly kissing the top of the head of her little friend as she grabbed a hoodie on the chair near her bed. “Thank you, Tikki, you’re the best. Spots on, please.”

* * *

She ended up sitting on their favorite rooftop for an hour or so, her hair loose in her back, contemplating their beloved city as she lost herself in her thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, they kept coming back to Adrien’s evening odd behavior. She kept wondering why in the world he had kissed her forehead, what he had meant by calling her  _ princess _ out of all the pet names he could have chosen for her.

It became clear pretty quickly that sitting outside at three in the morning wouldn’t bring her any much-needed answers, and Marinette eventually decided to head back home before her roommate would notice her absence and worry uselessly about her again. Easily landing in the secluded alleyway behind their building, she detransformed halfway up the emergency stairs and swiftly let herself in through the window she had left open behind her, stealthily tucking an exhausted Tikki into the pocket of her hoodie.

“Marinette?”

Startled, she froze right in front of the window, conscious she must have been looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her gaze caught onto Adrien’s eyes as they curiously bore into her, making her feel bare in front of him, exposed.

“Mari? What were you doing outside on the fire escape at 3 a.m.?” Adrien asked, his voice soft, tentative. His expression was earnest, yet surprised at the same time. Then again, finding his roommate climbing into the living room through the window in the dead of the night was probably the last thing the young man had expected to encounter.

Sighing, the young woman figured she owed him some explanation at the very least, especially considering all she had put him through the previous evening. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went outside to get a breath of fresh air. Sorry if I woke you up.”

Adrien shrugged softly, taking a few steps toward her. “Don’t fret about it. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Oh? What’s keeping you up? I really hope it’s not because of earlier…” she trailed off, guilt quickly creeping up her throat.

The blond sighed, shaking his head with a forlorn expression as his gaze wandered through the open window. “Another video was uploaded to the Ladyblog shortly after I put you to bed. Ladybug was out tonight again, running and crying her heart out. According to Alya, she was clearly distressed, to the point of stumbling and nearly falling off rooftops. It made me wonder… Why does she still bother going on patrols every night, after all this time? When she quite visibly has more important stuff to take care of in her civilian life? There had been no akuma for five years now, what’s even the use?”

Marinette’s fists unwillingly clenched by her sides, and she desperately tried to ignore the explosive cocktail of emotions brewing up inside her. “She’s not doing patrols. She’s waiting for her partner to come back to her.”

Adrien chuckled disbelievingly, a sad smile stretching his lips. “You really think so? After all this time? Don’t you think she would have moved on by now?”

The young woman’s lips tightened unwillingly as she felt her patience slipping her grasp. Her nails dug painfully into the palm of her hands, and she barked at him despite herself, “You really think it would be so easy to move on for her? To forget him? Ladybug’s feelings for Chat Noir are way beyond puppy love, they were  _ partners, a team, two halves of a whole,  _ their bond was stronger than anything you could imagine.”

Adrien’s eyes widened at her uncharacteristic outburst and seemed to ponder the right answer for a second, before answering somewhat bitterly. “Well, then she really should move on. Chat Noir was only ever a huge loser, never anywhere near worthy of her affections.”

Hearing those words made something snap within Marinette. Maintaining her composure up to that second had been incredibly hard, but now she lost it. “How  _ dare  _ you speak so lowly of him,” she snarled. “Chat Noir was her counterpart, her better half. Who do you think you are, belittling him like this?”

Adrien took a step back, gulping painfully as the young lady tried to keep her anger in check. “I’m sorry Mari, I didn’t mean to—”

“Ladybug loves him. Always have, always will. She had been waiting for him to show up, had been  _ searching  _ for him for five fucking years, and yet you have the nerve to make fun of these feelings?”

Through her furious rant, Marinette heard him whisper softly, “Mari, please calm down…”

“He was her everything, her partner, her best friend, her very heart and soul. You don’t just ‘move on’ from this kind of love.”

A lone tear slid down her cheek, and she choked back a sob. Adrien’s voice snapped her attention back to the conversation. “Where does that even come from, Marinette? Ladybug never mentioned having romantic feelings toward Chat Noir to anyone, much less to the media.” 

Was it her high level of exhaustion? Was it the highly emotional events of the previous days? Was it because she already let him in through the cracks of her broken heart? Was it the odd feelings that hearing him calling her  _ princess  _ had awakened within her? Was it the way she had taken Chat Noir’s side instantly, years after his disappearance, defending him tooth and nail, because it felt like the right thing to do?

Whatever it was, a dam broke in Marinette’s heart, and she sobbed loudly, unable to keep the truth bottled up a single more second. “I was  _ going to.  _ I was going to tell him, after the fight with Hawkmoth. He vanished before I ever had a chance to.”

She crossed her arms in front of herself, as an attempt to keep herself from falling apart. Had she bothered to look up, she would have seen the horrified expression on Adrien’s face, the way his heart had seemingly jumped into his throat as his hands began shaking uncontrollably.

“You’re Ladybug,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear it.

Marinette nodded through her tears. “And I miss him, I miss him so much. I never got to tell him how much I loved him, how much he meant to me, and it’s just so unfair… The day we defeated Hawkmoth was supposed to be a new beginning for us… And instead, I lost everything. I should’ve—”

She was cut off by Adrien crossing the distance between them in two long strides, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. “I’m so, so, so sorry, Marinette.”

Startled, Marinette stiffened within his arms, completely lost. Why in the world was he apologizing to her?

“Please, forgive me,” he went on, unaware of her confusion.

“Adrien… What are you—”

“I never should’ve left. I thought that you’d be better off without me, that I would always be a thorn in your side. Never, never I would’ve imagined that you’d miss me like that, that I would cause you this much pain. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What…” Marinette tried to process his words, stunned into silence. Adrien was now sobbing in her hair, clinging to her like a lifeline. Was he really implying...?

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he ultimately breathed, two little words having the effect of a bucket of ice on Marinette. She tore herself away from his arms, and took in his appearance all at once. His face was covered with tears, his crestfallen yet hopeful expression looking out of place on his familiar features. She tried to imagine him in a leather suit, with cat ears and a black mask, and her heart stilled in her chest. 

“You can’t be…”

He sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair. “What’s your kwami’s name?”

Marinette took a step back, her hand hovering protectively over her hoodie’s pocket. “What?”

“Your kwami? The magic creature that came with your earrings and allows you to suit up? Mine was named Plagg. All he ever agreed on eating to recharge was stinky Camembert. It was a real pain to try to find some every time my transformation ran off five minutes after using my cataclysm.”

She knew what he was doing. By stating facts only them could possibly know, he was trying to make her understand, to convince her that he truly was her long lost partner. Years of mourning, years of searching him in every green-eyed blond that crossed her path had made her wary, broken, and she couldn’t bring herself to accept the now obvious truth just yet. “Show me.”

He shook his head, sadness and regret written all over his face. “I can’t. I removed my ring five years ago. I don’t intend on ever wearing it again.”

“Show me. You owe me that much.” Marinette tried to keep any venom out of her voice, but conflicted feelings were choking her, making thinking clearly nearly impossible. Part of her wanted to believe him, to throw herself in his arms and kiss him until they both were so sore that they couldn’t move anymore. Her partner, the love of her life had turned out to be one of her best friends, her former high school crush out of all people, and he was  _ alive.  _

The other part, though, couldn’t get over the bittersweet taste that his confession left in her mouth. All of this time, he  _ knew  _ she was waiting for him _.  _ And it stung way more than she was willing to admit.

So, when he reluctantly led her to his bedroom, pulling a small safe from his closet, she didn’t know what to expect. Adrien opened it with shaky fingers, carefully avoiding any contact with the black ring carefully put away in the metallic box. A ring she could recognize anywhere, a ring she thought she’d never see again.

Chat Noir’s miraculous.

It hit her like a freight train, all at once. Her stomach clenched painfully, and she felt bile at the back of her throat. Standing in his bedroom, beside him, suddenly felt overwhelming. Breathing was now an effort, and she was barely able to keep herself upright as the shock sunk in. A single thought managed to break through her wavering mind, and she grasped onto it desperately, trying to keep herself afloat. “You always had the choice…”

Adrien closed the safe and looked at her, puzzled. “What?”

“You always had the choice to come back to me. You deliberately chose to walk out of my life. You… You’re not my Chat Noir,” she said, hurt and venom dripping from every word.

“Mari, please listen…” he tried weakly as he reached for her hand.

She flinched away from his touch, ignoring the crestfallen look that dawned on his features at the motion. “Don’t touch me. The Chat Noir I knew, the partner I loved and trusted would’ve never turned his back on me the way you did.  _ That  _ Chat Noir would’ve fought tooth and nail for what mattered to him, would’ve never let his fears and insecurities get in the way of what he wanted. That man died the day you chose to let me believe you were dead out of sheer cowardice, Adrien.”

Apparently deciding against touching her, Adrien let his hand fall back beside him awkwardly. His pain and his regrets were evident when he spoke again, his voice breaking miserably. “I missed you too, okay? But how could I have faced you knowing that my fucking father was Hawkmoth? I ate at his table, slept in the same house as him, without ever suspecting anything was amiss. He almost  _ killed  _ you, for God’s sake, and if I had been just a little less dense, this huge mess could’ve been avoided.”

“You  _ saved my life.  _ Do you really think so little of me that you honestly thought I would hold you responsible for your father’s mistakes? When you took away his miraculous, when you saw the face beneath the mask, you could have chosen him. You could have let him get away with his crimes. But you handed him to justice, like the hero you were back then,” Marinette nearly yelled, unable to believe what she was hearing. All of this time, he had been hiding from  _ her  _ because he was  _ ashamed  _ of his father’s actions?

“It was the right thing to do,” he breathed, as if it was enough of an explanation.

“If you did the right thing, then why did you flee? Why did you vanish from my life without a single word? I waited for you every single night, hoping for a sign, anything, that would’ve let me know you were okay.”

“I wasn’t okay,” Adrien shouted, hurt painted across his face. “My family was never anything more than a sick joke. Can you put yourself in my shoes for just a second? I lost everything that day.”

“So did I!” Marinette cried, her heart stuck in her throat. “ _ You  _ were my everything, and I lost you! We could have been through this together! I could have supported you like the partner I was supposed to be to you! Instead you just shut me out without any explanation!”

His fists clenched by his sides, and he nearly barked, “What did you want me to say, Marinette? That I was too ashamed of my name to face you? I loved you back then, and I still love you to this day, but what good would I have been for you? I had nothing to offer you! A stupid orphan, son of a terrorist, who was never taught how to love properly and is thirsty for any kind of affection?”

“I’ve spent five years _mourning_ you, while you at least knew that I was _alive_.” Through her anger, she let out a single sob, and ignored the tears running down both of their faces. “How is that love, Adrien? How can you claim to love me, when you selfishly left me hurting for you these last five years? You had one word to say, one single word and you could’ve ended it all. The pain, the mourning, the missing chunk of my heart that you took away with you when you left me. One word, and yet you didn’t.”

His eyes widened, and it became clear that he hadn’t realized the extent of her pain up until then. “I—” he started, but Marinette went on, years of hurt unraveling before him.

“I thought something was keeping you from coming back. I thought that, maybe, you didn’t know that I was waiting for you. But all this time you  _ knew  _ that I was looking for you. You  _ knew  _ that I was heartbroken because of your absence, and yet you didn’t care! You saw me on the Ladyblog every. single. night. for. five. years,” she said, hammering every word. “You knew  _ where  _ I was, you knew  _ how  _ to reach me. And yet you still  _ chose  _ to disappear from my life.”

“I never—”

“Cut the crap!” Marinette yelled, pouring all of her pain into her words. She took a step toward him, repeatedly poking his chest with her finger. “For all I knew you could have been dead! You just abandoned me like I was nothing but a worthless piece of garbage to you that night! You were my best friend, and I loved you so, so much! And I thought you loved me too but I guess I wasn’t worth your trouble after all!” She got up without looking at him, and walked toward the door.

“You know what hurts the most,  _ Chat _ ?” she paused on the threshold. “I trusted you with my very life. Even when Hawkmoth was strangling me, even as I was losing consciousness, I wasn’t afraid. I knew—I  _ thought— _ that you’d always come for me, or die trying. You, on the other hand, didn’t even have enough faith in me to believe I’d stay by your side when things got difficult. What kind of a crappy partner have I been to you if you honestly believed I’d jump the ship at the first bump?”

“Mari wait—” he lunged toward her, but she raised a hand, stopping his momentum.

“Don’t. I’ve already lost five years of my life waiting for you, I won’t lose another second.” His bedroom door slammed violently behind her after those parting words said with a voice cooler than ice, leaving a stunned Adrien in her trail.

His knees buckled up beneath him as he collapsed on the floor, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. Through his blurry mind, a single thought kept replaying over and over again.

He had managed to lose the love of his life twice in the same lifetime.


	10. Clear as Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIATUS OVER GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> On an even happier note, my other multi-chap fic, *Both of You* is finally completed!

Adrien lasted twenty hours, forty-two minutes and twenty seconds. 

He tried, really. He knew that he had messed up big time, that she was rightfully furious with him and deserved time on her own to cool down. He wanted to respect her privacy, to give her the space she needed to process properly all that had been going down between them that night. Adrien might not have been an expert on relationships, but he was painfully conscious that he had overstepped all of her boundaries at once the night prior, and he knew that if there was anything left of their relationship to salvage, it would be a long and delicate process.

Nonetheless, despite being very well aware of all this, it was still twenty-something hours of pure torture on his part, of pacing back and forth restlessly in their living room, of mentally rehearsing epic apology speeches and eternal love pledges.

Twenty-something hours of running his hands through his hair, unwillingly donning his former signature hairstyle from back when he was still running on rooftops at night. His eyes remained desperately strained on her still stubbornly closed door, his heart caught in his throat. He had to figure out how to undo five years of undeserved abandon, five years of hiding behind his cowardice, five years of selfishly hurting her.

At first, he had thought that all he had to do was to remain patient. Sooner or later, she would have to exit her room, wouldn’t she? After all, no matter how mad she was, Marinette still had to oblige to basic human needs, such as nourishment and hydration. She still hadn’t left her bedroom ever since slamming the door behind her the previous night (well, given the hour, very early that morning). So he waited as patiently as he could, pretty adamant that she would need food at some point.

As the hours ticked by, slowly but surely, and as sleep escaped him more and more, his patience grew thin despite his best intentions. Much less kind thoughts sneaked their way into his psyche, taunting him, driving him crazy. How dare she make this all about herself? He had been hurt too, and had lost much more than her. She still had her family, her friends, while he had been left with nothing but an empty house and a handful of regrets.

… and the knowledge that his partner was safe and sound, and  _ grieving. _

His heart twisted painfully in his chest, and his eyes strained again on the closed door. She was right. It had been wrong, disgustingly wrong of him to leave her in the dark, to disappear on her without so much as an explanation. Had it been her, he would have gone mad with worry and grief, would have turned Paris upside down to find her, to make sure that she was okay.

The silence suddenly became too much to bear, and he whimpered, all the pain crashing back on him at once. Out of shame, out of sorrow, he had done to her the exact thing he had tried to shield her from all of those years.

He had hurt her.

At last, unable to keep pacing in the living room by himself, he gave up all pretenses of chivalry and politeness and walked to her door, heart pounding hard in his chest. He knocked on her door sharply, “Marinette, this is getting ridiculous. I sincerely hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

Mouth dry with apprehension, Adrien swung the door open, “Marinette, we really have to talk ab—”

He froze on the threshold, taking in the room appearance all at once.

It was awfully, dreadfully and, now that he thought of it, somewhat predictably, empty.

Sure enough, all the stuff he had bought her was still there, untouched. Every single item of clothing they had bought together was still neatly put away, tags still on. Her hoodie from the previous night was carefully folded on the foot of her bed, and the minuscule bathroom window had been left open behind her.

And the Chat Noir plush was laying face down on the comforter.

The wordless message was clear as day.

Marinette herself, however, was nowhere in sight, nor was the bag she had with her the day her building had burnt down.

With a pitiful whimper, Adrien sat on her bed, unshed tears choking him. He had failed her in so many ways. 

As a partner, as a friend, as the man who claimed to love her more than life itself.

And now she was somewhere out there, alone, basically homeless, all thanks to his misplaced pride and shame.

His lady was upset, she was hurt, and more than anything else, she was  _ missing. _

With shaking fingers, Adrien pulled up his phone from his pocket and quickly dialed his best friend’s number. As soon as the young DJ picked up the call, he blurted out inelegantly into his phone, “Hey man, I lost Mari.”

He heard a faint snort on the other side of the line,  _ “Okay man, aren’t you guys a  _ little  _ old to play hide-and-seek? Have you checked under the beds and behind the curtains?” _

Adrien gulped, staring at Marinette’s empty bed. “Look, Nino, I didn’t call to play games. We… We kinda got into a huge and stupid argument that really got out of hand, and now she’s just… gone. Any chance she escaped to your and Alya’s place and you could get her on the line so I can apologize?”

_ “She fled again? You texted her parents like, just yesterday, to let them know she was safe and sound and back in your apartment!” _

He could hear the surprise loud and clear into his friend’s voice, and he couldn’t blame him. What kind of fool managed to piss off a close and already upset friend twice in as many days? 

“Nino,” he said, rubbing his temples to try and ease the tension building, “I’ve been a major ass to her, like I would totally kick myself if I could, and I just don’t have a clue about where she left to. I’m really, really worried about her, I need to find her—”

“ _ Adrien, _ ” Nino’s voice cut him off, “ _ Alya’s waiting for me, but I wouldn’t worry too much if I was you. Disappearing is kinda Mari’s thing. With her apartment burnt down, it was to be expected honestly. She’ll reappear when you least expect her.” _

Alya’s voice came through the speakers, a definite teasing tone to it, “ _ Marinette the magician! Been doing that ever since we were teenagers, Agreste. She’ll come back as soon as she feels she can deal with whatever triggered her. Don’t worry.” _

Hearing those words made his insides churn painfully. How could they call themselves her friends and treat her pain so lightly?

Then again, he reminded himself, he was the only human being aware of the exact extent of her wounds, of the amount of pain he had put her in. Resolving to go and search for her himself, Adrien grabbed her hoodie on her bed and walked out of her room, looking for his car keys as he marched toward the front door.

“If you hear about her just call me, alright?” he said a bit more harshly than he would’ve liked, “I messed up, and I’m actually trying to  _ fix  _ that.” Not giving them time to answer or react whatsoever, he ended the call and dialed the bakery’s number.

“ _ Tom and Sabine’s, how can I help you?” _

Adrien sighed, his heart caught in his throat, “Tom? This is Adrien speaking. I know we established a few hours ago that Mari was back home and safe and sound, but she's kind of missing again, and I don’t have a clue about where she could be at the moment. Any chance you’ve heard from her?”

“ _ No such luck, son,”  _ the deep voice of her father answered him. “ _ She really needs to start dealing with her problems instead of fleeing. What happened this time? Can you tell me about it, or is it personal?” _

Adrien stuck his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he put his vest and his shoes on. “I don’t want to go into too much detail, but basically, it would appear I’m unknowingly responsible for her …er… mood during these last few years. We argued and she locked herself up in her bedroom. She must’ve sneaked out when I wasn’t looking, ’cause she’s not here anymore. I’m really sor—”

_ “Don’t, Adrien. You mean to tell me she actually talked about it? That’s more than she ever did in the past, so that’s actually a good thing. Whatever it is that caused your disagreement, I’m pretty confident that the two of you will work it out now that she’s finally opening up.”  _ Tom said, his voice still calm and composed, taking Adrien aback.

“You… You aren’t mad at me for upsetting her? For making her flee  _ again _ ?”

Tom sighed on the other side of the line. “ _ She’s been bottling it all up for a long time, we knew all along that someday, sooner or later, it would blow up and probably be messy. If touching her past upset her that much, it's no wonder she fled. She's done that for years. I'll do a ring around and see if I can spot her, but don't worry too much. She always comes back when she's ready to deal with whatever upset her.” _

“I … Thanks, Sir. I’ll call you as soon as she comes home.”

“ _ Oh, Adrien? Thank you for being there for my baby girl. Sabine and I really appreciate it.” _

Adrien’s breath hitched in his throat and tears pricked at his eyes. How could Tom  _ thank  _ him when he was the solely responsible for his daughter’s pain? He quickly mumbled what he hoped was an appropriate answer and disconnected the call as he locked his apartment’s door behind him. As he entered the elevator and pushed the button for the car park multiple times, he decided to contact the last person that might be aware of Marinette’s current location, Rose.

She answered right away, her bubbly and cheerful voice filling his ears, “ _ Hi Adrien! I just missed a call from Marinette, anything I can help you guys with? It’s pretty late.” _

Good. Dead or wounded people didn’t call their boss, did they? So she was most likely safe, right? He breathed a relieved sigh in his phone. “Actually, no. I’m actually looking for her. What did she say? Where is she? Does she want me to come and pick her up?”

_ “She just left me a voicemail, Adrien. Saying that she wouldn’t come in for a few days. Did something happen? Is everything okay” _

A few days? Where in the world was she? The elevator thankfully came to a stop. He was out the door before it even fully opened and he all but bolted to his car, fidgeting with the lock in his hurry.

“It… It’s kind of a long story...” He dropped his keys on the concrete, repressing a swear as he scrambled for them again and almost dropped his phone in the motion. “I…”

Rose chuckled sadly on the other side of the line as Adrien finally managed to get in his car, “ _ Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to pry. Marinette… She's a much different girl than the one we knew back in school.” _

Adrien raised an eyebrow at that, starting the ignition. “How so?”

_ “I was shocked when she came to me for a job five years ago. I mean, we all thought that she was the next Gabriel Agreste—oh. Sorry, that was—” _

“I honestly couldn’t care less about my father right now, Rose. Go on.”

The black sedan pulled out of the building’s parking lot, his eyes carefully scanning the streets for a flash of red and black. 

Rose’s voice carried on through the car’s speakers, worry dripping from every word, “ _ Anyway, I hired her on the spot, thinking that her legendary creativity would be a great asset for  _ Ever After.  _ But it became clear pretty soon that she was broken, that she wasn’t able to create any more. I couldn’t bring myself to turn my back on a friend clearly in need, so I hired Nate to come up with the designs in her place, and instead had Mari reproduce his art. I’m worried sick about her, Adrien. She has to open up to someone about what’s gnawing at her like that. It’s been years.” _

“I know,” Adrien sighed, “but my last attempt made her flee our apartment, so I think that I’m not doing that well in helping her.”

“ _ She’s lucky to have a friend like you looking after her, Adrien. And she’ll realize it sooner or later.” _

They talked for a few minutes after that, exchanging ideas and theories about her current whereabouts, and then the young man hung up, focusing entirely on driving down every single Parisian streets, searching for his upset friend.

Hours later, hungry, frustrated and beside himself with worry, he reluctantly gave up and turned the car around, driving back to his building. She was nowhere to be seen as Marinette, and if she was transformed there was no possible way for him to find her if she didn’t want him to. A furtive thought about a black ring sitting in a safe, probably his best bet for finding her, fleeted in his mind but he quickly dismissed it. 

He would find her, without relying on the magic he was unworthy of.

The second Adrien stepped foot in his apartment, shoulders slumped and heart heavy with worry about his lost partner, his dear friend, a small red blob came barreling to him, landing in his open palm with a soft whimper. 

“W— What?”

“Marinette,” the small creature blurted out, obviously in excruciating pain, “you have to help her.”


	11. Twenty-Something Hours

_ Twenty-something hours prior… _

As soon as the door slammed shut, putting a very welcomed physical barrier between herself and Adrien - Chat Noir, her wounded heart provided - Marinette knew that she couldn’t stay in his apartment another single second as well as she knew that she had blue eyes and black hair.

Deep down, she  _ knew  _ she was being beyond ridiculous. That fleeing  _ again  _ wouldn’t solve anything, that the right thing to do would have been to wait until the anger would have subsided and talk things out with Adrien like the two grown-up persons they were supposed to be.

But in the meantime, she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him, not after what he did to her. Not yet. Not when her breathing was ragged, superficial, her vision blurry from the tears threatening to spill on her cheeks, her heart beating erratically in her chest. Not when she felt like the walls of her bedroom where closing up on her. 

Choking on a sob, Marinette cursed herself. Opening up to her friend after years of stubbornly bottling her pain up had been relieving, only to have it bite her back badly not even a few hours later. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that all along, Chat Noir, the boy who had risked his life on her behalf time and time again, the boy who had claimed to all Paris that he’d love her no matter what, had willingly  _ chosen  _ to abandon her.

The hurt, the betrayal was rendered even greater by the unsettling fact the the boy she had tried so hard to get over was being the same as the man her heart then chose to love all those years back. That the friend who had coaxed her into talking about her scars was the man who had caused the wounds to begin with. It all was just too great for her to bear, too much for her to deal with it. 

So, for the second time in as many days, she reacted the only way she knew how: she escaped. 

As soon as she was sure that Adrien wouldn’t come barging in her room behind her anytime soon, she changed into the only clothes that truly belonged to her, the outfit she wore the day her apartment burnt down. Gathering what little possessions she still had, she hastily packed them into her shoulder bag.

Her eyes fell on the Chat Noir plush sitting on her bed, and her heart constricted painfully in her chest as she picked it up, eyes blurry with unshed tears. 

Years of mourning, years of questions, wasted years of happiness, only for the sake of his cowardice, of his shame… 

Marinette shook her head, refusing to let her thoughts wander down that dangerous path. If she let it all sink in right then, she would break down and wouldn’t be able to leave the apartment. She’d have to wait for thinking about everything, to postpone dealing with all the pain later on. 

Once she’d be far away from Adrien.

From his apartment.

From the ring he had kept in a safe for five excruciatingly long years instead of coming back to her, instead of letting her know he was  _ alive.  _

She bit back a sob and dropped the doll on the comforter, face down, like it had just burnt her fingers.

Clutching her bag against her chest, she looked at her kwami, her eyes imploring.

Tikki sighed, looking at her way beyond upset charge, “You can’t always flee when you’re upset, Marinette. You’ll have to face the music sooner or later.”

“Please,” Marinette begged, her voice shaking almost as much as her hands, “just this once. I can’t, Tikki, I just can’t deal with this right now.”

Reluctantly, the little kwami nodded, carefully eyeing her holder, trying to assess the situation. Part of her wanted nothing more than to phase through that stupid door and knock some basic common sense into Adrien, to make him understand that he had to fix that mess without delay. Never before had she seen Marinette desperate like this, even in the weeks immediately following Chat Noir’s alleged death, when she had relentlessly searched all of Paris for him, for a sign or a body,  _ anything _ . But now, there was a brand new layer to her pain, a brand new wound in her already damaged heart, and it was obvious that this was the last straw, the final blow. 

The fragile thread that still held Marinette together had just burst at the seams, and she was unraveling in front of Tikki, any pretense of control long gone, and it broke her little heart to see her chosen in so much pain.

But the other part of Tikki knew that Marinette would never forgive her pulling off such a stunt. That forcing her to confront Adrien would only hurt her further. So, when the young woman whispered with a shaky breath, “Please, Tikki, spots on,” she complied without arguing and transformed her charge, despite her mind being heavy with worry.

As soon as she was suited up, Ladybug rushed into the bathroom and pushed the small window open. Getting out through it was a tight fit and a dangerous hassle considering she had nowhere to set foot on the outside, but she didn’t care. She had to get away, no matter the cost. She hooked her yoyo on a nearby chimney as soon as her torso was out the tiny opening, and seconds later she was running on the rooftops she loved so much.

The rooftops that had witnessed so much of her pain, of her tears over the last few years.

She could almost hear Tikki’s voice in every single of her steps on the familiar shambles, “ _ Talk to him, talk to him, talk to him,” _ but she ignored the chant, putting as much distance as she could between her and  _ him.  _ She didn’t think her heart could afford being deceived once more.

Because, despite everything, she still loved him. 

She loved him so much that it was tearing her heart apart. Part of her wanted to go back and kiss him senseless, like she should’ve done years priors, when they were still friends and partners. But the other part, the scarred and broken part, was terrified at the idea of letting him anywhere near her. 

Ladybug ultimately found sanctuary atop the highest beams of the Eiffel Tower for the remaining of the night, way too high to be seen by civilians in this darkness or accessible to any wandering tourists. 

_ Their  _ favorite spot. 

She contemplated Paris from high up, the city they had given up their youth for, a breathtaking view that had always been  _ theirs,  _ and she remembered, tears rolling freely on her cheeks.

The day he had showed up to patrol unfashionably late, a goofy grin on his face, carefully juggling two fuming cups of chocolate in the dead of the coldest night of December.

The day he had almost fallen down the Eiffel Tower because they were laughing too much.

The day she had brought him macarons from her parents bakery because he had mentioned once that he didn’t get to eat many sweets at home, and the hug he had given her to thank her had almost crushed her.

All their laughs, their tears, their customary fist-bump after every fight, their playful banter, their long talks under the stars.

_ Them. _

And she cried. She let go, let the tears spill freely as she sobbed violently, her arms wrapped around her knees as she let the pain pour out of her. 

Once dawn came, and sunrays caressed her tear-streaked face, she knew she had to start moving again or risk being spotted by some civilian who would promptly relay her whereabouts to the Ladyblog — ergo to Adrien.

Reluctantly leaving her peaceful haven and her memories, she began the trek down the landmark with an ease that only came with years of practice. Ducking into a nearby alley, she released her transformation and wiped her face on her sleeve. She took advantage of the very early morning to blend through the sparse pedestrians, walking aimlessly in the Parisian streets.

She walked all morning, pointedly ignoring Tikki’s exasperated sighs reaching her ears from within her bag. When afternoon came, the very idea of going back to Adrien still made bile rise in her throat, so she let her feet led her to a cute bookshop, where she isolated herself into an alcove with a cup of fuming tea and some brainless chick novel.

Dusk came all too soon, and with it an unpleasant reality check of its own. The bookshop owner gently but firmly kicked her out, and Marinette found herself back to square one.

Alone, in the streets, with nowhere to go and so few belongings that they all fit in a shoulder bag.

Still avoiding Tikki’s disapproving gaze, she walked.

Darkness fell on Paris once again as Marinette walked down the streets, clutching the strap of her bag on her heart. This was the longest time yet she had hid, isolated herself like this, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back just yet. Couldn’t muster the strength to face Adrien - Chat Noir - and let him know just how  _ deep  _ her pain ran exactly.

So she kept walking, wandering within the streets she knew so well, but couldn’t pay attention to. She was faintly aware of a policeman telling her to be careful alone in the streets at this late hour, but his words barely registered on her upset mind.

Unbeknownst to her, her feet led her in front of her parents’ bakery. Looking up to the washed out but loaded with fond memories sign, Marinette let out a soft sigh. She suddenly craved her mother’s kisses and loving reassurances, her father’s bone crushing hugs and the steady feeling of security he had always brought her.

Making up her mind at last, Marinette walked toward the small shop, knowing that her parents would know straight away that something was very wrong with her, no matter how she’d try to deny it. Yet, somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She needed them, needed the safety of their love, even if it meant answering questions she would have prefered to avoid.

Her fingers were wrapped around the copper handle when she heard her father’s voice, deep and rich and soothing, coming through the adjoining open window, “ _ Don’t, Adrien. You mean to tell me she actually talked about it? That’s more than she ever did in the past, so that’s actually a good thing.” _

The words she overheard stung more than she would’ve have liked to admit as their meaning sunk in. There was not a single doubt that they were speaking about her, and evidently, Adrien was searching for her. 

Where fifteen-year-old Marinette would’ve been elated at the thought of her ginormous crush taking interest in her whereabouts, the more mature, more broken version of her couldn’t shake the feeling that she had endured five years of useless hurt all because of him and his misplaced pride. 

There was also the unshakable feeling of betrayal that came with the knowledge that her  _ father  _ was on  _ Adrien’ _ s side. Suddenly finding herself unable to breathe properly, she ran into the alley behind the bakery and blindly rushed up the emergency stair of the adjoining building. Her breathing ragged, she tumbled clumsily on the rooftop, the feeling of the shambles unfamiliar under her naked fingers.

She sat down with her bag in her lap, her legs crossed in front of her and carefully hidden from the street by the tall brick chimney. Pointedly ignoring Tikki’s questioning gaze, Marinette foraged into her shoulder bag, pulling out her phone with shaky fingers. Dismissing the forty or so unread text messages and missed calls displayed on the screen from Adrien, Alya, Nino and both of her parents, all of them either inquiring of her whereabouts or offering shelter, she clicked on Rose’s contact information.

To her relief, her call went to voicemail after only a few rings. Willing her breathing to slow down to a more normal level, Marinette spoke as evenly as she could, “Hi Rose! It’s- It’s Marinette, sorry for the late call. I-I’ve given it some thought and you’re right. The… Listen, the fire messed me up more than I thought and… I think I’m going to need to take a few days off to process it all. I’ll call you as soon as I know when I’ll come back to work, okay? Thank you for everything. Goodnight.”

She terminated the call and turned off her phone, the anxiety balling up in her gut. 

She was on her own. 

Her parents had seemingly turned their backs on her, choosing Adrien and his shameful secrets over their very own and broken daughter. Any hopes of her long lost partner rescuing her from her sorrows were now crushed into oblivion under the light of Adrien’s confession. Considering the fact that Alya lived with  _ his  _ best friend, going to their place was out of the question, lest she wanted Adrien being told of her whereabouts within the second.

Dawn eventually came again, the sun’s first rays peering through the dark, heavy clouds hovering over Paris and warming up her pale face. She chanced a glance out of her hideout of fortune, and spotted a luxury black sedan going down the street. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest as she imagined a green-eyed blond sitting behind the wheel, scanning Paris’s streets to find her. On instinct, she pressed her back further against the cold brick, her breath suddenly short.

Marinette sighed, ignoring the painful knot in her stomach, ignoring the tears pricking at her eyes again. 

Her entire world had been turned upside down in the span of a few days, and she wasn’t ready to deal with the aftermaths of what Adrien had just revealed to her. To let all the implications of his double-identity sink in.

She needed a breather, needed desperately a moment to gather her thoughts, to process all of this properly.

More than anything, she needed to finally heal.

As the sun rose slowly over the still asleep City of Love, Marinette came to a decision. 

As soon as a car-rental company opened its doors, she walked in, ignoring the clerk shocked expression when he took in her disheveled appearance. Lips tight, she offered the last funds available on her credit card in exchange for the use of a small Fiat for a few days.

“Marinette, what are you doing?” Tikki asked her once they were safely alone in the habitacle of the car, her charge pulling up on the highway, attention solely focused on the road.

Pressing the accelerator, Marinette quickly checked the rearview mirror and answered dryly, “I can’t stay in Paris, Tikki. He’ll find me sooner or later, and I need time. I need to process this mess.”

“What’s to process, Marinette? The partner you thought dead or worse is there, turning Paris upside down to find you and make amends. What more do you want?”

“ **I DON’T KNOW!** ” The words had been all but ripped from Marinette’s lips, echoing weirdly inside the car. A lone tear slid down her cheek as raindrops began to drum softly on the roof of the car, but she kept her eyes strained on the road ahead of her nonetheless. “Look, Tikki, it just hurts so much and-” she babbled, “I… I don’t know, okay? I- I just need to- He hurt me and, and, maybe he didn't mean to but what if he did? He had so many, so many chances, he could've come any time and he doesn't care enough because he- he let them all go by and he let me wait and I'm so scared and... but I just need a few days, maybe even a few weeks away from him… It hurts, Tikki- But I need it, away from everything, I just want to put my emotions in order, I just… Please...”

She trailed off, unable herself to make sense out of the words she had just thrown at her kwami.  

Rain was now falling heavily on the road, making it hard to see despite the early hour. Marinette went on anyway, a visceral need to put as much distance as she could between herself and Paris making her insides churn uncomfortably.

Tikki flew in front of her face, slightly obstructing her view, her little arms crossed on her chest and her expression stern, “Go back to him and give him a chance to explain himself, Marinette, you know that’s what you really want to do if you’re honest with yourself.”

“Why should I?” Marinette shrieked, unaware of the tears now freely rolling down her cheeks, “He had many chances to come clean and say what he wanted any day these past five years and yet he didn’t. He  _ purposely  _ left me in the dark, left me thinking he was dead. Give me a single reason why I should let him tamper with my heart for a  _ third  _ time?”

Obviously fed up with her charge stubbornness, Tikki all but screamed, “ _ YOU DIDN’T EVEN LISTEN TO HIM, MARINETTE! DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS HURTING ALL OF THIS TIME?  _ **_HE PUT HIS VERY OWN FATHER IN JAIL, FOR GOD’S SAKE!_ ** ”

Whether it was her incredible level of exhaustion for not having slept in almost forty-eight hours, the overwhelming emotions seizing up her heart, or the tears blurring her vision, Marinette couldn’t tell. 

But she failed to see an upcoming curve on the road on time, and the car cut through the railing like butter. The metal prison barreled down the cliff in the deafening wail of bending metal and broken glass, before crashing against a tree about fifty feet below.

The strong copper smell of blood was the first thing Marinette registered once the car finally stopped moving. A violent pain shot through her entire left side, making her breathing shallow and painful as she felt her heartbeat thumping against the back of her head. 

She tried to reach for her bag on the passenger seat, but it was too far, and the motion sent a fresh wave of white hot pain through her entire body, ripping a pained scream from her throat.

The last thing she saw before drifting off into unconsciousness was Tikki’s panicked expression as she flew through the shattered car window.

Everything went black.


	12. Broken

There’s a bunch of things that came as naturally as breathing when you’re a several- thousand-year-old magical god.

Granting superpowers to your chosen on a daily basis, providing her with fearful weapons to defeat villains on a weekly basis? Easy peasy.

Protecting said chosen from most harm in battle, using your inner energy to repel any damage done to her? Piece of cake.

Phasing through solid matters at any given time? Please. She was doing it before the humankind built its very first pyramid.

Finding your way back to your pupil long lost partner’s apartment when you don’t have a clue about your current location, while using most of your magical energy to maintain your wielder alive despite being yourself considerably weakened by your other half’s five-year-long dormancy?

Tikki found out the hard way that this was next to impossible.

As she flew away from the location of the car crash Tikki desperately tried to take note of her way back to Marinette. The little kwami felt the magic link tethering her to her chosen grow fainter and fainter the more she was far from her, the more the heartbeat faltered in Marinette’s chest.

Ignoring the intense pain stiffening her limbs as her energy floundered, she kept flying, following the gray ribbon of asphalt Marinette had driven down. Never in her existence the little being had flown that fast, that desperately.

Guilt clenched at her insides as she soared through the wind and rain, unable to shake the idea that she was somewhat responsible for Marinette’s predicament. Had she succeeded in calming her down before she’d climb into that death machine, had she waited for her to reach her destination before trying to talk to her, had she done things differently all those years ago…

Tears dripping on her cheeks, Tikki finally caught glimpse of the Eiffel Tower in the far distance and zipped toward it, whimpering as the link between her and Marinette wavered a notch further.

Once she finally reached Adrien’s apartment building, Tikki’s sight was blurry and her entire being hurt excruciatingly. Every single ounce of energy she had left in her was directed toward Marinette, toward the chosen she had failed to protect. She flew up the fire escape stairs, and recognizing the living room curtains, phased through the window without further ceremony.

She barrelled into the apartment at the exact moment Adrien was coming back through the front door. Upon seeing the red dot making a beeline toward him, the young man held a hand up out of habit that hadn’t died, his breath hitching in his throat.

Exhausted, her link to Marinette so faint she almost didn’t feel it anymore, Tikki plopped down into the open palm, whimpering softly. “Marinette,” she choked out, “you have to help her.”  

* * *

 Adrien incredulously peered down at the small creature lying on the palm of his hand, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

A creature he knew all too well, one he never thought he’d encounter again in this lifetime. A small red blob, with dark antennas, big shiny blue eyes and a single black spot on the top of her tiny head.

A kwami, without a single doubt.

 _Ladybug’s_ kwami, no less, whom Adrien faintly recalled Plagg referring to as Tokko? Pikka? No, Tikki.

_“Marinette, you have to help her.”_

Her words had hit him like a freight train, and it took him a full minute to process them correctly, for them to register properly in his exhausted mind. His mouth ran dry and his heart skipped a beat. “What? What about Marinette? Where is she?”

The kwami was obviously fighting to keep her eyes open, which did nothing to quell Adrien’s worries. What in the world could have happened to Marinette? Why -how?- had she been separated from her kwami? Where was she?

“Marinette needs Chat Noir, and right now... I…” She hiccupped, tears pooling in her eyes, “The bond is so faint, Adrien. I’m losing her.”

Her words cut through Adrien’s heart just like knives would have done. Shaking his head, he refused to jump to hasty conclusions. Surely Tikki wasn’t meaning… _that,_ right? There had to be another explanation, something less terrifying.

Less definitive.

Taken aback by the sweet looking kwami desperate look and her words validating his worst fears, Adrien stammered, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, “W-What happened?”

Tikki faintly whimpered in pain, clutching desperately on the remnants of her bond, before speaking barely audibly, “She spent all day and all night hiding from you on some rooftop, crying, before deciding to rent a car and take a few weeks break from Paris. However, she hadn’t slept and she was exhausted. It… it was raining hard, we were arguing and she was crying, and she ended up driving off a cliff. There was blood everywhere in the car when I left her, so please hurry.”

Adrien felt dizzy.

A cliff.

He had driven Marinette off a cliff.

He wasn’t behind the wheel when the accident had happened, but he might as well have been. _He_ had made her flee Paris. _He_ had made her cry her heart out as she drove in the rain.

She was alone somewhere, bleeding, and dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.

His breath hitched and he felt bile rise in the back of his throat. “Why would you come to me? Why didn’t you go to emergency services instead?”

Despite the urgency of the situation, the scarlet blob rolled her eyes in a true Ladybug fashion, coughing a small cry of pain as she did so, “Yeah, because showing up as a thousand years old magic entity in front of, say, a firefighter or a doctor would instantly prompt them to follow me without assuming they’ve gone crazy first.”

“Do you want me to lead them to her then? Show me the-” Adrien started, only to get cut off by the small being once again.

“We don’t have time to organize a rescue party, her heartbeat is so faint that I almost don’t feel it anymore!” she objected, tears uncontrollably spilling out of her blue eyes, “Besides, the car tumbled in a spot secluded from the road, it’s really hard to spot without knowing it’s there beforehand. Chances that someone will stop to save her in that ditch are really thin. Stop stalling Adrien, when I left she was unconscious, and-”

He grabbed his car keys, jaw clenched in determination. “Lead me to her, Tikki.”

“You’re forgetting your ring,” she croaked out, eyes rolling back in their orbits as the pain became unbearable.

Adrien shook his head, ignoring the way his stomach was churning painfully at the idea of having _really_ lost Marinette. He had a car, he could drive to her, and figure out something once he’d get to her. Years of fighting to protect Paris and taking hits meant for her had given him some basic knowledge about first aid, maybe it’d be enough to save her?  “I’m not.”

“You will need Cataclysm to get her out of that tangled mess, so-”

Throat parched, Adrien answered dryly, “I can’t transform, Chat Noir is gone.”

Suddenly, the red deity seemed frantic, desperate even as she cried out in pain, “You can’t or you won’t?”

“I won’t,” he reluctantly admitted, the way her kwami’s eyes bore into his making him squirm uncomfortably under her gaze. “Just lead me to her, I’ll do whatever it takes to help her.”

This seemed to anger the little kwami enough to slightly spark some energy anew within her. She flew clumsily out of his hand, hovering at eye level in front of him, pure rage painted across her face. “Listen carefully, young man. I don’t give a flying fuck about your stupid issues with Plagg. I’m losing my chosen a little further with every second we waste, all thanks to you both and your stubbornness.”

Tikki didn’t wait for an answer, disappearing into his bedroom with laborious huffs and whimpers, and came back holding a familiar black ring between her paws. She dropped it into his hands, looking at him pointedly, “It’s time to fix what you’ve broken, Chat Noir. You said you’d do whatever it takes to save her? Prove it. ”

He gulped, his heart clenching painfully in his chest.

Tikki seemed to glow hot red in her anger as he failed to react quickly enough for her. **“Adrien can’t help her.** She needs Chat Noir right now. So either you suit up and follow me to rescue her, or deal with the guilt of being responsible of her very early death for the rest of your miserable life. **”** she spat angrily, even if her outburst seemed to take away the last of her energy from her.

Inhaling sharply, Adrien looked at the ring resting on the palm of his hand, faintly noting that the black cat kwami had yet to appear. Tikki was right, his choice was rather simple.

Face his past, and hopefully give back Marinette her life, the future he had unwillingly swept from under her feet.

Or continue to wallow in his sorrows, comfortably seated in the _status quo_ , and live forever with the knowledge that he had let her down.

_Again._

So he closed his eyes, trying to ignore how heavy his worries for Marinette, his princess, his lady, weighed in his chest, and he slid the ring on his finger for the first time in five long years.

“Claws out.”

* * *

 To say Chat Noir was an odd sight was the understatement of the year.

If someone had been lucky enough to spot the leather-clad hero in uniform after an unexplained five-year-long absence, it would’ve been quite the scoop it itself.

But instead of pole-vaulting across rooftops like he used to, Chat Noir was _driving._

To be more accurate, he was currently madly speeding down a highway on the outskirts of Paris under the torrential rain, his foot pressed all the way down on the gas pedal of a luxury black sedan.

Years of driving himself around had made him at ease behind the wheel of his car, and if he concentrated enough on the road, he wouldn’t be able to think.

Wouldn’t think about how Marinette had gotten badly, quite possibly fatally, injured because of him.

Wouldn’t think about how he had transformed back into a feline superhero against everything he had vowed to himself just a few minutes prior.

Wouldn’t think about how wearing the ring hadn’t been enough to bring Plagg back. About how he wasn’t sure yet if he was relieved or upset by his kwami’s notable absence.

So he drove, entirely focused on the road save for casting worried glances at the ladybug kwami curled up on the shoulder of the passenger seat, now violently shivering. “We’re close, Chat. I can feel her. I think she drove off at the next curve.”

“Okay,” he answered simply, voice hoarse with grief. He slowed down, shifting gears mechanically. “I’ll… I’ll bring her to the nearest hospital and call her parents from there. I’ll hand my ring back to Master Fu in the morning, I should have done it years ago.”

With a startled cry, Tikki lifted her head slowly, “Why in the world would you do such a thing?”

He gulped, slowing the car down as he neared the broken railing. “She clearly doesn’t want me anywhere near her. All I have ever done is cause her harm, and...” he trailed off, choking on a sob.

Tikki glare softened, and she watched as Chat Noir parked his car on the side of the road. She climbed into his offered hand and gently nuzzled her head against his thumb as he settled her into the collar of his suit, “Adrien, whatever you do, please do both of you a _huge_ favor, and don’t give up on her. She loves you, Chat, she _needs_ you, and...”

Chat Noir’s eyes landed on the metal wreck a few feet down, and any words that Tikki could’ve said after this were completely lost on him.

The car was all but wrapped against a tree, lying on his side, the driver’s door facing the ground and trapping its occupant inside the makeshift prison.

His mind going mad with worry, he pulled his staff from his back and vaulted himself to her, faintly registering that it still felt natural, easy. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” he muttered to himself, eyes desperately strained on the wreckage in front of him. As he neared the car, his heart thumped louder and louder, more and more painfully within his chest. A small puddle of a dark liquid seeped from under the pile of crumpled metal, and the characteristic smell of oil filled his nostrils.

Chat Noir landed on top of the wrecked car, hastily ripping the passenger door off.

There she was, his princess, his lady.

Marinette was unconscious, her right leg bent at an odd angle beneath the wheel. There was shattered glass in her blood-matted hair, and her breathing was so shallow that he wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for his feline enhanced hearing.

The hero tried to reach for her, but the odd angle in which the car had fallen and the fact that she obviously had at least a fractured leg, if not more broken bones, quickly dissuaded him from pulling or tugging in any way on her body, for fear of aggravating her wounds. Given the fact that she was basically lying on the ground anyway, with only the car’s door between her and the dirt, Chat Noir had to agree with Tikki, albeit reluctantly.

The safest way of getting her out of her metal prison would be to Cataclysm the car. And quick.

Heart pounding in his ears, he called upon his destructive power with a hoarse voice and smashed his glowing hand onto the metal carcass, disintegrating the vehicle without a second thought. Nothing mattered anymore except for Marinette’s safety, Marinette’s life. With the car out of the way, her limp body sprawled slightly in the ash, and he was by her side in a flash, kneeling beside her and carefully gathering her against his chest.

His ring gave its first warning beep while Chat Noir walked toward his car, the broken body of his partner cradled in his arms. Tikki was curled up in Marinette’s lap, crying softly against the slightly exposed skin of her stomach.

He risked a glance down, and his heart broke a little bit further.

 _“Don’t give up on her,”_ Tikki’s earlier words replayed in his mind as he carefully, reverently laid Marinette on the back seat of his car. After quickly checking for signs of flowing blood, he draped a blanket over her deathly still figure.

For the second time that day, Chat Noir pressed the accelerator of his car all the way down.

Not even ten minutes later, Adrien Agreste stopped his car in front of a Parisian hospital and barged into the emergency room cradling the lithe form of a young dark-haired woman in his arms.

Questions were asked with an urgent tone, a blur of white uniforms surrounded them, and Marinette was taken from his arms, rolled away from him on a gurney.

Left alone in an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, Adrien finally let all the day’s events fully sink in. Anxiety pooled in his stomach, and he shakily pulled out his phone. After sending out a few texts and making one or two phone calls, he leaned back and his eyes glued to the door behind which Marinette had disappeared.

Minutes, and then hours ticked by.

At some point, when exactly he couldn’t tell, Tom and Sabine barged in with matching panicked expressions, trying in vain to obtain answers from a practically catatonic Adrien. He barely managed to nod at questions he hadn’t listened to, his eyes never leaving the door that had swallowed Marinette.

His princess, his lady.

When it became clear that the young man was in shock and wouldn’t be able to provide any valuable information regarding his daughter, Tom gave up and instead hunted nurses and doctors in hopes of getting an update on Marinette’s state.

Adrien was faintly aware of Alya and Nino’s arrival some time later, the former in hysterics. Again, he saw that words were spoken, answers were probably expected from him, but his tired mind was refusing to acknowledge anything that wasn’t Marinette.

The same words kept replaying again and again in his thoughts, driving him crazy as the wait was becoming unbearable. “ _You failed her. You failed her. You failed her._ ”

Adrien never heard or felt the sorrowful whimper that escaped his lips, but he was startled out of his grim thoughts by Sabine Cheng gently taking his hand into hers, drawing reassuring circles on the side of his thumb. He blanched, looking at her completely dumbfounded.

How could this woman comfort _him_ when _he_ was responsible for putting her daughter in the hospital?

Words still stubbornly refused to leave his throat despite how much he wanted to tell her that she should hate him. He simply turned his head away from her in shame, away from those eyes that reminded him too much of Marinette, and he stared at the door again.

Finally, a tired looking nurse came back through the dreaded door, smiling softly to her attentive audience. Looking way beyond exhausted, Adrien was staring at her with bleary eyes. Alya and Nino were sitting on his left, Sabine on his right still holding his hand in a reassuring manner. Tom was pacing through the waiting room, muttering to himself about useless driving lessons.

The nurse then pronounced the most beautiful words in the French language according to Adrien.

“She is out of danger.”


	13. Regrets

Marinette never quite measured how much she valued her sight and speech before being robbed of it.

As she laid on some sedan backseat, her entire being barely more than pure and raw pain, in between fainting spells and brief bouts of consciousness, she listened.

Whispers.

That’s what Marinette was conscious of last. And first.

At first, muffled whispers about a lost kwami, about mistakes that have been made, about secrets that have been kept way too long.

At last, barely concealed concerns about her well-being. Musings about a wound on her forehead, conversations about her low blood pressure, someone forcing a tube into her mouth, bidding her goodnight.

In between, there was the hurt, and the dreams. Dreams of rooftops, of luminescent green eyes peering into her soul. Dreams of playful banter under the moonlight, of soaring through the Parisian sky on a yoyo string.

And when she finally woke up…

...it brought an entirely new kind of pain upon her.

* * *

“You haven’t been answering any calls or texts lately.”

Marinette averted her gaze from her friend, intently looking at the cast on her broken leg. “I told you before, Alya. I lost my phone in the accident. It’s probably broken anyway.”

“Funny about that,” Alya insisted gently but firmly, trying to help her friend patch the apparent holes in her memories, “it’s been a week already and they never did find the car, let alone your belongings. It makes us wonder _where the hell_ you went off-road?”

“I don’t know, okay? It… it was dark, and raining, it’s all a blur and my head hurts horribly right now, can you please drop it?”

A shadow passed on her best friend’s face, but she nodded anyway, running her hand through her hair. “Okay, accident’s off the table, I get it. Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Adrien then? Poor guy’s been going crazy all week.”

Marinette huffed, landing a disbelieving gaze on Alya. “Really? ‘Cause I haven’t heard from him ever since the accident. Tik- the nurses said he saved me, but-”

Alya practically pounced on her friend, carefully avoiding the bruises the airbag had left on the side of her face as she gently turned toward her so she would be able to look into her eyes. “Are you kidding me right now, Mari? He barely even left the hospital ever since bringing you in, and only with a lot of coaxing from Nino. He’s sitting outside your door like a freaking puppy as we speak, and every time we offer him to come in to _talk to you,_ he shrugs and answers that you probably hate him and that he fully deserves it. What happened between you two?”

Gulping painfully, Marinette felt anxiety weighing uncomfortably in her stomach. She knew Alya didn’t mean any harm, but she was unknowingly toying with gaping wounds and fresh scars she wasn’t ready to bear openly yet.

Maybe not ever.

When tears pooled into the bluebell eyes, Alya instantly backpedaled, realising she had gone too far. Her phone suddenly seemed to weigh a ton in her pocket, seemingly burning a hole through it. “Woah. Okay, okay, I get it, I won’t pry anymore. Sorry Mari.”

“It’s just… it’s not my secret to tell, Alya.”

Alya’s phone chimed, and she pulled it out swiftly, typing a few words in before slipping it in her pocket again. She carefully eyed her best friend, taking in the impressive bruising marring the better part of left side of her face and shoulder, the bandage taped to her forehead, the hot pink cast immobilizing her right leg, her skin still a little too pale from all the blood loss, added to the ribs Alya knew to be broken but healing steadily under the hospital gown. In the week she had spent in the hospital, Marinette had already made a lot of progress, getting better and better by every day that passed.

But the lingering sadness was still there, seemingly stifling the young woman, and Alya couldn’t shake the feeling that it had only gotten worse ever since the accident.

And that it had _definitely_ amped up a notch at the mere mention of Adrien. She sighed, “Look, I don’t know what broke you both like this, Mari, but I have a feeling that it stems from way before the fire. You really should _talk_ to him, at least try to fix things between you two. You obviously mean a lot to Adrien, or else he wouldn’t have camped on a hospital chair for the past week, no matter how guilty he feels about your argument.”

Marinette’s eyes drifted toward the door out of their own accord, and she sighed softly, “I know. I did a lot of thinking, and… I can’t keep running. I… I want to fix this mess, somehow, and-”

“Glad you think so, I might survive this then.” Alya smiled softly as she checked her phone again, and Marinette recognized the mischievous spark in her friend’s eyes. The spark that never bode well.

“W-What?”

The door suddenly swung open, effectively silencing a grinning Alya, and a familiar tall blond tumbled into the room, hissing through clenched teeth, “ _Nino!_ ”

Before either of them even had time to react, Alya bolted out of the room, offering Adrien a warning glance as she slipped out the door and promptly closed it behind her.

“I really hope we’re doing the right thing, Nino,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot.

Back in the hospital room, Adrien stood there awkwardly, his eyes strained on the tip of his shoes, carefully avoiding her gaze. Marinette stared at him, dumbfounded, as she took in his disheveled appearance at once. It was clear he hadn’t shaved all week, his clothes were horribly wrinkled, his hair was sticking up in all directions and he was sporting the darkest circles she had ever seen under someone’s eyes.

The tension in the room was thick, stifling, and Marinette took pity on him. No matter how much she was angry at him for what had happened five years prior, she could never find it in her to hate him. With a hesitant smile, she called softly, “Adrien.”

His eyes jerked up to her face, intently looking at her, searching her features for answers. She willed her tentative smile to stay in place, to reassure him. “I… Thanks. For getting to me in time. Tikki said you were brilliant out th-”

“I might as well have driven you down that cliff myself. There’s no words to tell you how much I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She tried to interrupt him, to tell him how much he was wrong to blame himself for the accident, but it was like a dam had just burst inside him. Words came spilling out, unbidden, as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I will never forgive myself for letting you wonder what had happened to me all of this time, for letting you mourn your partner without offering any form of closure. It was wrong and selfish of me to disregard your feelings, no matter how hurt and lost I was myself.  
  
“I honestly thought that you’d be better off without me, that I would only hinder you. That you’d feel nothing but pity toward me. That you’d want nothing to do with the only son of the enemy we battled together all of those years, let alone love me. I was ashamed of my name, of the very blood running in my veins, and I couldn’t bring myself to face you. And honestly, all of this time it never even crossed my mind that your very obvious pain was caused by my absence by your side. Who in their right mind would miss a worthless and orphaned stray cat?”

“I did,” Marinette managed to cut through his speech, tears of her own gliding down her face as she witnessed the man she had spent the better part of a decade loving unravel before her. “I did miss you, every minute without you by my side felt like I was missing a part of myself.”

He winced, the reminder of the pain he had put her through unpleasant, but he went on nonetheless, averting his gaze from hers. “I now know it was wrong of me. Five years of you crying on the Ladyblog every night, and I never even gathered the courage to reach out to you, to let you know at least that I was okay, sort of. I was a stupid fool, to think you would just move on and forget everything about our partnership, about our friendship, like all I've ever been to you was a bothersome stepping stone in your way.”

Adrien looked up, his eyes finding hers again. This time, all she read in it was steel-like resolve. He had yet to move from the doorway, but his tone was more assertive as he spoke again, “I promise I’ll never give up on you again. I’ll never let you down again. I love you, Marinette, I love you with every single cell of my body, and I’ll spend every living minute of my life trying to make it up to you for my mistakes.

“I’ve been hopelessly in love with my faceless partner ever since I was fifteen, and I’ve spent about the same time desperately denying how much I was fascinated by a cute classmate of mine. There was never anybody else, only you, Mari. I fell in love with you time and time again, with the awesome, kind, passionate, clumsy, cute, lovely bluebell-eyed girl my heart chose eight years ago.

“Just let me love you. Just let me take care of you like the princess you are to me, just let me try and make up for all those years of pain I selfishly put you through.

“I love you, Marinette. I love you more than anything, more than life itself. I… I let you down because I loved you way too much to risk bringing you down along with me in the mess that followed my father’s imprisonment. I didn’t realise this would do more harm than good to you. There's nothing I want more than your forgiveness, even though I don't deserve it.”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer, but he raised a hand, motioning for her to wait. With a choked back sob, he murmured, "This is what **I** want. But I'll do whatever it is **YOU** want. If you want me to walk out the door and never speak to you again, I'll do it. If you want me to leave and wait until you're ready to talk, I'll do that. If you want me to beg you for forgiveness every remaining day of my life, I'll do that."

Breathless, her heart beating furiously in her bruised ribcage, Marinette gaped at him for a moment, searching his eyes for a trace of deception, of dishonesty. When she failed to read anything but guilt and sincerity in her partner’s gaze, she sighed softly, “I don’t want you out of my life, Adrien. I loved you, these past five years have been hell on earth because I loved you too much to let you go without putting up a fight.”

Adrien found an interest in the tip of his shoes again, whispering, “...loved?”

She gulped, trying to word her thoughts in the less harmful way possible. “I’m sorry, Adrien… It’s just… How can I know for sure that you’re not going to abandon me again at the first bump in the road? I… I’m willing to try to fix this, to fix us, but you’re going to have to be patient with me. I don’t want to make you any promises, five years is a long time, and it would be unfair of me toward both of us to disregard the wounds I’m still nursing, both physically and emotionally.”

“Fair enough.”

The hurt was crystal clear in his voice, and Marinette felt guilt clutching her stomach. He must have noticed the change in her mood, because he scrambled forward for her hand, hesitating at the last possible second and freezing about an inch or two from her. Noticing his reluctance, Marinette slipped her fingers between his, squeezing lightly as she gave him a soft nod, encouraging him to speak his mind.

He smiled, looking at their intertwined fingers. “It’s okay, Mari. By that point I’m honestly only glad you are talking to me at all. I can’t help how I’m feeling toward you, but if all I ever get to be to you is your friend, it’ll still be more than I deserve.”

Marinette wrapped her fingers tighter around his, a forlorn smile stretching her lips. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad to finally know you aren’t dead, kitty.”

He sat on the bed, the witty reply dying on his lips as another voice, higher-pitched and dripping with regrets, came from behind Marinette’s pillow. “I’m so sorry, kids. Things might’ve been different, had I been less stubborn all those years ago.”

The little kwami flew into view, her big blue eyes heavy with sadness. Seeing as both miraculous wielders were harboring matching confused expressions, she resumed her train of thoughts. “Plagg insisted time and time again to have you reveal yourselves to each other. He was worried about his charge, about his lonely and difficult life at home. But back then, I only thought of the immediate consequences, about how it would make Marinette vulnerable should Hawkmoth get ahold of Chat Noir. So I kept refusing, no matter how much he would insist.”

Marinette gasped, outraged, “Wait, all of this time, _you knew?_ ”

“Sort of? I mean, Plagg’s presence was always stronger around Adrien back in school, so I had it figured out that it was him… But the feeling vanished altogether after your victory against Hawkmoth, so I assumed I must have been mistaken. In the years following Chat’s disappearance, I didn’t feel my other half anymore, that’s why I never denied the possibility that something could’ve happened to Chat Noir.”

“You can’t feel him if he’s dormant?” asked Adrien, carefully contemplating the silver ring on his right hand.

Tikki sighed, following Adrien’s gaze, “The presence is much fainter. When we’re both active, we can sense each other from afar, we can communicate with each other without even being in the same city. When either of us is dormant, though, it’s… much more difficult for the other. When we moved into your apartment, Adrien, I was shocked to feel Plagg nearby again, after years of nothing. Sadly, things between you and Marinette got out of hand before I had a chance to confirm my doubts and come up with a plan to make the reunion as painless as could be.”

Marinette stared at her kwami, unsure if she was angry or shocked at this unexpected revelation. Deciding anger would take too much energy she didn’t have, she settled on the latter. Noticing Adrien pensively toying with his ring, she asked, “Why isn’t he coming out?”

“He’s really pissed,” Tikki answered, a sad smile dancing on her lips. “He’s mad at Adrien for keeping him dormant all of this time, and he’s even angrier with me for not listening to him back then. This is his way of punishing us. He… he let Adrien transform earlier only because he knew it was a matter of life or death. I wouldn’t bid on him being so understanding anytime soon.”

Adrien nodded, lips stretched into a thin line. “What should I do?”

“Do you intend on removing the ring again?” Tikki asked, her eyes serious. He sustained her gaze, ignoring the knot in his stomach.

“Only if that’s what Marinette wants of me.”

This prompted the young woman to smack him on the arm, squealing inelegantly, “Don’t you dare! I will solder it to your finger if it’s what it takes, but you won’t remove this damned thing again as long as I’m Ladybug.”

“There’s your answer, Tikki,” Adrien said with a small smile. How he had missed it, the way his lady took charge in times of need.

“Then,” the small deity answered softly, “there’s nothing much to do but wait. Plagg will come around eventually, and show his face again.”

Marinette looked down at their intertwined hands lying on the mattress beside her, and she thought about how Chat Noir’s kwami had tried to convince Tikki to let him reveal himself for his sake, to break him free from his loneliness.

“You know what’s the worst in all of this?”

Adrien gulped, but forced himself to answer, “What?”

“Nobody understood. Nobody could have. They knew nothing about me being Ladybug, about what Chat Noir meant to me. They… At first they all tried to help me, to be there for me, but in the end I think they just accepted that they couldn’t, that as long as I wouldn’t _talk,_ nothing would ever change. They… they think I don’t know, that I don’t realize, but five years of hurting is a really long time, and they kinda became used to it. Heck, even my therapist doesn’t know what to do with me by now. Tikki tried numerous times to convince me to reveal myself as Ladybug to my parents or to Alya so that I’d at least have someone to talk to freely, but I just couldn’t. It felt like betraying you…”

“I wish you had,” Adrien said softly, his thumb drawing small circles on the side of her hand. “I wish you’d find someone to share your burden with.”

She smiled at him, a sad smile loaded with unsaid things. “But neither did you, Adrien. You… Nobody knew what you were _really_ going through, nobody knew how lonely you truly were. I… this is so messed up. All this could have been so easily avoided. If we had revealed ourselves to each other years ago, I could have been by your side when you had to deal with the consequences of your father’s actions. If you hadn’t disappeared, I wouldn’t have spent five years mourning you when you were straight under my nose. If I had listened to you instead of fleeing, I wouldn’t-”

“Hey,” Adrien interrupted her, “we won’t go anywhere with ‘ _what if_ s’. This happened. This is our past, and we can’t change it. We have to move forward with the cards that have been handed to us. You said you’re willing to try to fix _us_? So am I. I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life.”

Marinette lifted a tired gaze toward him. “It means going back to square one. I… My trust in you has been broken, and let’s be honest, Adrien. You don’t know Marinette that well, and neither do I know the real Adrien very well. We each fell in love with a mask.”

“Being given a second chance with you, be it as a friend or as something more should you want that someday, is more than I could ever dare to dream of, Mari,” Adrien said, smiling softly. “From the second you revealed yourself to me, I knew I’d have a lot of work to put in if I ever wanted to earn your forgiveness. But you’re worth every second of it, Marinette, even if you can’t see it right now.”

Throat tight with emotion, Marinette merely nodded. He squeezed her fingers softly, leaning toward her, “You’re exhausted, get back to sleep. I won’t go anywhere, I won’t ever leave your side again unless you tell me to. Just… just promise me you won’t run away like this anymore. If you ever need time alone to think, or want me out of your hair, just say so.”

Marinette scoffed with a smile, gesturing to the cast encasing her leg. “I think you won’t have to worry about me running away for a little while.”

For the first time since Nino had pushed him through the door, Adrien’s smile actually reached his eyes. With a breathy laugh, he gently coaxed her back to the pillows, carefully watching her reactions, trying to gauge where she had drawn the boundaries between them.

Hours later, the nurse found him gently stroking the hair of a sound-asleep Marinette, quietly humming some lullaby to her with a sad and longing smile dancing on his lips.


	14. Bring Me Home

Adrien balanced both coffees in his hands as he navigated through the incoming flow of visitors and gurneys in the hospital corridors. His students had been a real nightmare that day, being loud and unruly, and the little sleep he was running on did nothing to soothe his nerves. Never in his career had he come so close to snapping in class and telling the teenagers off for being disruptive. As soon as the bell had rung, he’d bolted out the school and straight to the hospital, only stopping on his way there to grab a tall latte for his severely caffeine deprived lady.

He didn’t like leaving her alone during the day, but she had insisted that she had perfectly trained nurses and doctors to take care of her while she was in the hospital, and therefore it would be ridiculous for him to miss any more work than he already had. She had all but kicked him out of her room the previous Monday, telling him to come back once he’d be done sharing his wisdom with young minds and had practically begged him to bring her a decent coffee when he would return.

Nino and Alya had noticed his obvious reluctance to leave her side and had come up with a sort of schedule to ensure Marinette would rarely be alone. Sabine usually dropped by after the lunch rush at the bakery, while their friends were taking turns according to their busy schedules keeping the young woman company until school was out. That’s when Adrien would come back every day without fail, always bringing the best coffee he could find or delicious takeout to lift the spirits up of his injured partner.

Adrien exited the elevator, the whirlwind of emotions of the latest events still dizzying him. Holding the limp body of Marinette in his arms, not knowing if she would make it, had made him reconsider his priorities, ranking her happiness and righting his wrongs toward her above anything else. He had fully expected her to yell at him, to refuse to give him another undeserved chance.

When, against all odds, she had agreed to _try_ and fix their broken relationship, Adrien had honestly thought his world had stopped for a second. He knew Marinette was amazing and had a kind heart, he only realized the full extent of how much she meant to him when she had asked him to be _patient_ with her.

Not a _no._

Not a _get the hell out of my life._

Not even a _never talk to me again._

No. Not that but _I loved you_ and _I want to try._

This was more than Adrien had dared to hope for, and if she needed him to be patient be her, he was fully prepared to do so. He would gladly take whatever place she would agree to make him in her life, and make it his life's goal to earn her trust back.

As he neared her room, he could distinctly hear her voice coming through the door, making his stomach flutters pleasantly the way it always seemed to do whenever Marinette was involved. She was talking animatedly, but didn’t seem upset. “ _Yes mama, they said I could go home today. I’ll have to take it easy for a few weeks still, until they remove the cast, but I can’t wait to sleep in a real bed.”_

Smiling to himself upon hearing the good news, he used his shoulder to push the door of her room open, holding his two cups of coffee up as a peace offering.

Marinette was on the phone, trying to use her crutches to get up from her bed and shaking her head softly. “No, Mama, I _really_ don’t need Papa to close the bakery in the middle of the day just to come and get me. I’ll just call a taxi.”

Their eyes met, and her entire face lit up, turning his heart to mush. She smiled at him warmly, mouthing, “ _Help me.”_

He grinned, setting the fuming cups on the table beside her and holding his hand out, gesturing for the phone. “May I?” he asked quietly, not wanting to pressure her into anything. They were still in the early stages of their brand new relationship, not a friendship yet but still way beyond simple acquaintances somehow, both of them figuring out the brand new boundaries that defined their rekindled bond.

Marinette nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. “Hold on, Mama, Adrien wants to have a word with you.”

She put the device in his open palm, and he pressed it to his ear, trying to ignore the tingling running through his skin where their fingers had brushed together. “Hi Mme Dupain-Cheng!”

“ _Hi Adrien, could you knock some sense into my stubborn daughter and make her understand that taking a taxi with crutches isn’t a sensible thing to do?”_

He eyed said crutches and lifted an eyebrow, wondering how clumsy Marinette intended to make the journey to the bakery in one piece without her two feet. “Don’t worry about that, madam. I actually brought my car today, so I’ll drive her home, safe and sound.”

Tikki flashed him a smile from the pillow where she was curled up as Sabine answered, “ _Thanks Adrien, it means a lot to us. I won’t hold you up any longer, please take good care of my baby girl!”_

“I will. Have a nice day, Mme Dupain-Cheng.”

The call disconnected, and he handed the telephone back to Marinette. “So? Today’s the big day, huh?”

Her smile widened, and she balanced herself awkwardly on her good foot, reaching for a duffel bag lying open at the foot of her bed. “Yes! Finally! I can’t wait to be home and sleep in a real bed, you know?”

She swayed dangerously on her uninjured leg, and Adrien surged forward, grabbing her elbow to steady her before she crashed her face on the linoleum. Eyes heavy with worry, he gulped at the sudden contact and said softly, “May I help you?”

Marinette nodded gratefully, pointing to a small stack of books piled on the floor next to her bed. “Could you put those in my bag? I also have a few personal belongings in the drawers, but not much.”

Adrien complied happily, relieved to see his friend giving up any ideas of packing her luggage herself and sat back on her bed. She reached for one of the steaming cups on the bedside table and took a sip, sighing contentedly, “Oh great! You bought the good stuff!”

He laughed softly, carefully folding the hoodie he had brought her to keep her warm in the evenings, “Why would I even bother bringing you anything else? You’ve been gushing about those latte non-stop ever you tasted it.”

“I don’t gush about them!”

Tikki stretched her little paws lazily. “At least once a day, Marinette. I guess you _really_ love those lattes,” she said with a smirk.

“If you’re both teaming up on me, I don’t stand a chance,” Marinette huffed irately, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that gave her away. She was far from angry, almost enjoying herself even.

About half an hour later, the doctor had stopped by to give his last instructions about the care of her cast and the cut on her forehead, Adrien had made a trip to the car to load her luggage into his trunk, and he was now helping Marinette out of the elevator, helping her finding her balance on the crutches while Tikki was giggling quietly inside the collar of his shirt.

Getting Marinette into the car without hurting her broken leg proved to be a feat of strength on its own, but Adrien soon found out that it was nothing compared to the torture of being within the enclosed space of his sedan with his long lost lady. Having her so close to him, yet so far at the same time, was slowly but surely driving him crazy.

Part of him was dying to grab her and kiss her senseless, to show her just how far his love for Ladybug, and by now for Marinette also, went. But he was painfully aware that pushing past the boundaries she had erected between them would only destroy the fragile balance between them, and ruin any chance that he might still have of being hers someday.

Pushing his feelings aside for an unknown amount of time, dead set of stifling any romantic aspirations toward her until _she_ showed any interest into taking their relationship into uncharted territories, he instead focused on the road. He could sense Marinette looking at him curiously, probably trying to figure out what was going on in his mind.

He could only wish she couldn’t read his mind as well as she always seemed to do effortlessly when they were fighting side by side.

“We’re here,” Adrien announced a bit too loudly after a while, stopping the car on the side of the road.

Marinette was still trying to figure out a comfortable position for her leg in the small available space of the passenger seat abandoned the idea and looked up. Her eyes widened as she realized they were _certainly_ not in Adrien’s building parking. “A-Adrien? W-what are we doing at the bakery?”

He looked at her, confused. Where did she expect him to bring her? “What do you mean? I agreed with your mother that I would drive you home, that what I did. What’s the matter?”

Marinette let out a heavy sigh, eyeing the young man carefully. He suddenly felt as if she was scrutinizing his very soul. “I can’t come back to live at the bakery, Adrien,” she said softly. “Now even less than before. The very last thing my parents need right now is the added burden of taking care of their injured daughter on top of the bakery duties. They already have more than enough on their plate. Plus, I’d remind you that my old bedroom is in the attic and that I have a loft bed there. Kind of a challenge.”

Adrien paled, staring at her with a blank expression. What she had just said refused to compute in his brain. When she had asked to go home, surely she hadn’t meant…

“Sorry, I just assumed—” he began weakly, but the words died in his throat. He gulped, refusing to let himself believe that she still wanted _anything_ to do with living with him. Those misplaced hopes were little more than sheer wishful thinking on his part. “What do you want to do then? Is Alya expecting you? I should’ve asked, I’m sorry.”

She snorted inelegantly. “Do you remember the conversation we had on the sidewalk when my apartment burned down? Like, at all? I _can’t_ live with Alya. Their place is too chaotic, they’ll drive me crazy within a week.”

“But—” he objected weakly, staring at the steering wheel of his car.

Marinette’s hand landed atop of his, coaxing his eyes back to hers. Her expression was guarded, apprehensive. “Are you kicking me out?”

“What? Of course not!” he squeaked out, horrified at the ridiculous thought.

“Really, if you’d rather have me move out, I’d understand, Adrien. I just assumed I would go back with you, but if you’d rather I didn’t, it’s no big—” Marinette quickly added, obviously trying to convince them both that she’d be okay if he had changed his mind about their current living arrangement.

“No!” he cried, desperate to make her understand that she was uttering nothing short of nonsense. He reached for her hand, grabbing it mindlessly over the gear shaft, before letting go of it just like it had been burning red iron. Who was he to dare touch her without her permission like that?

Marinette had a little sad smile as she looked down at her fingers lying awkwardly in her lap. “Then, why are you so adamant that I don’t go back home tonight?”

He looked away, the events that had led them there flooding his mind. “I just thought you’d want to stay away from me as much as possible, at least at first, given everything I put you through. And—”

“Are you going to force yourself on me?” she blurted out, taking him by surprise.

The implications of her words sunk in, and he hastily answered, “Of course not! I would never—”

“I know that, Adrien.” She smiled softly, blissfully cutting his freak-out short at the unsettling idea that she might really be considering this as a possibility. “Are you planning to murder me in my sleep then?”

His eyes widened considerably at the sheer idiocy of what she was suggesting. Had she skimmed over the part where he had been hopelessly in love with her ever since he was fifteen? “Why would I ever do such a thing?” he rasped out.

She giggled at his reaction, before saying in a slightly subdued voice, “I meant what I said back at the hospital that first time. I really want to try and fix … whatever we have is.”

“But you don’t trust me, why would you even _want_ to live with me?” Adrien couldn’t help himself but insist, the words hurting him as they rolled off his tongue.

Marinette’s hand landed on his cheek, the softness of her fingers tingling on his skin. She gently turned his face toward her, forcing him to look into her eyes. “I don’t trust you with my _heart_ , Adrien. Just because I’m not ready to be in a relationship with you, nor do I know if I’ll ever be, but I know you'll never harm me on purpose.”

Adrien ignored the knot quickly forming in his throat upon hearing those words. His heart was torn between two emotions, the hurt of having his slim chances of ever getting her to love him back again thrown in his face yet another time, and the pure bliss of hearing her say that they at least have a shot at friendship. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he choked out, “M-Mari, I—”

“Adrien, just bring me _home_ , please _._ ”

The exhaustion was clear as day in her voice, and he turned the key in the ignition, not trusting his voice enough to reply. She seemed to pick up on his inner turmoil, because he hadn’t even driven a mile before her fingers wrapped around his hand on the gear shaft, her thumb gently stroking the side of his hand.

“Thanks.”

The word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Six little letters, holding an entire world among themselves.

The black sedan pulled into Adrien’s private parking space shortly after. He shot out of the car, rushing toward the passenger side to help Marinette on her feet.

“Do you think you can reach the apartment on the crutches?”

She chuckled. “Well, there’s only one way to figure it out, isn’t it?”

In the end, it took a little bit of encouragement and support from him, but she did make it onto the couch in their living room. Marinette plopped onto it with a relieved sigh, setting the crutches aside.

“Victory!” she cried out, and Adrien thought his heart would burst in his chest from the cuteness of it.

He busied himself for the remaining of the day, tidying up the neglected apartment which had suffered from remaining empty for days on end, entertaining her with teaching stories and anecdotes from his modeling days so she wouldn’t die of boredom from her vantage point. He cooked dinner for both of them, which they ate while watching some meaningless reality show. Shortly after Adrien was done putting the dishes away, Marinette began dozing off on the couch.

Ignoring the way his heart cracked knowing he couldn’t have her yet, most likely not ever, he carried her to bed and tucked her in. As he looked at her peacefully sleeping figure in the darkness of her room, something else bubbled inside his chest.

He loved her.

There was not a single doubt about that. He loved her with every cell of his body, with everything he was.

But he also couldn’t stand the thought of a life without her in it.

His eyes landed on the Chat Noir plush sitting on the top shelf, watching over her dutifully, and a forlorn smile crept onto his lips.

If it was what it came down to, he’d much rather choose a life where he could cherish her and their friendship instead of a sad existence deprived of her.

He retreated back to his own bedroom, the feeling of her lithe body pressed against his chest as she slept still fresh, his nose still full of her scent.

He slipped under his blankets, unconsciously grabbing his Ladybug doll and held it to his heart as he slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

The next morning found him standing in his kitchen, cooking eggs and bacon for both of them when she emerged from her bedroom, already steadier than the day before on her crutches.

“Morning, Adrien,” she said cheerfully albeit a little sleepily.

He offered her a smile he dearly hoped seemed genuine. “Good morning, Marinette. Slept well?”

She sat down on a kitchen chair, stretching out her arms with a loud yawn. “Like a rock.”

He saw her eyes wander to the clock and widening when she noticed the late hour. “Wait, aren’t you going to work this morning?” she gasped.

Adrien smirked, putting her eggs on a plate. “Nope. The school owed me a few years of unclaimed vacation, so I took a leave of absence until you can get around in the apartment safely by yourself.”

“But—I can’t let you jeopardize your teaching career on my behalf, Adrien, it’s not right.”

“I’m not jeopardizing anything, Mari. And even if I were, it wouldn’t matter. You need me, and I’ll be there for you. I already let you down twice, it won’t happen ever again.”

She opened her mouth as if to answer him, but was cut short by the doorbell ringing loudly in the apartment. She looked at him, dumbfounded. “Were you expecting someone?”

Adrien chuckled softly, getting up to answer the door. “Someone was eager to see you this morning. I couldn’t bring myself to refuse.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but any question she could have was instantly answered by the loud and characteristic, “Mari!” that resonated through their apartment the minute he opened the door.

Marinette laughed, opening her arms widely as Alya pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Hi, Al!”

“You look great, Marinette!” asserted Nino, bumping Adrien’s raised fist with his own. He took a good look at her, and had to admit that his best friend was right. She had come a long way ever since the day, roughly two weeks prior, where he had burst through the hospital doors with her unconscious body cradled in his arms.

The bruising on her face and shoulder had considerably subdued, leaving her pale skin with little more than a yellowish hue to it. Her ribs barely hurt her anymore, and the cut on her forehead was healing nicely, the skin on its edges no longer an angry shade of red.

For the time being, she was trying to get up from the couch, laughing so much with Alya that she had trouble finding her balance. Worried, he called out to her, “Do you need anything, Marinette?”

She flashed him a smile in between peals of laughter. “I’m just thirsty, I was going to get a glass of water.”

“Hang on, I’m on it,” he instantly answered, rushing toward the kitchen as fast as if the seat of his pants had suddenly caught fire.

Alya and Nino ended up staying with them for a few hours, in which the latter stayed mostly silent. Adrien had the unnerving impression that his best friend was watching his every move like a hawk, analyzing every single word he was saying and second-guessing them.

His intuition proved to be right when Nino cornered him in the kitchen when he went to fix some coffee. “I don’t get it, man,” the young DJ stated, lowering his voice so both women wouldn’t hear his words from the living room as he reached for the cup of coffee Adrien was handing him. “Marinette's got you on her beck and call, tending to her every need and whim.”

Adrien shrugged, pouring himself a cup of the hot beverage. Whatever Nino thought was going on between him and Marinette, he was more than likely mistaken, and he wanted nothing less than explaining the exact nature of their relationship. “I’m just trying to be a great friend for her,” he answered, albeit a bit more dryly than he would’ve liked.

“She’s doing good, Adrien,” Nino countered. “I can’t see her being okay with you putting your entire existence on pause to take care of her.”

“You don’t understand.”

His gaze fell on Marinette’s laughing face, on her sparkling eyes as she talked animatedly with Alya. Nino seemed to notice it, and sighed.

“You’re right, man, I don’t. You act like you’re actively seeking her forgiveness or something, and it doesn’t make any sense, dude. You freaking saved her life and gave her a roof to live under, she should be thanking you and trying to make it up to you, not the other way around.”

Memories of a broken Ladybug crying her heart out on the rooftops, of the sheer hurt in her eyes when he had snapped at her, of the tremor in her voice upon figuring out her lost partner’s identity, of the steady beeping of the hospital machines flooded his mind all at once. He remembered just how close he had come to losing her for good, and it made his heart clench painfully within his ribcage.

“I almost lost her twice, Nino. I won’t ever let it happen again,” he breathed, ignoring the lump in his throat. He felt a gentle pressure on the back of his neck underneath the collar of his jacket and smiled, knowing Tikki was trying to comfort him in her own way.

Nino eyed his best friend carefully, trying to decipher what he had meant by those enigmatic words. When he found that he couldn’t, he chuckled disbelievingly, “You don’t even make any sense, man.”

“Look,” Adrien sighed, recalling the lie he and Marinette had agreed on when they had finally managed to be alone for more than a few minutes at the hospital, “after my father was sent to jail, Marinette stopped by my place to see how I was doing. Apparently I was completely smashed, and I said really hurtful things to her. I don’t actually recall any of it, but the night before her accident we got into a stupid argument and she kinda blurted it all out. I hurt her, badly, and unfairly. This … this is all my fault.”

“Wait,” Nino gasped, staring at him. “What in the world did you _say_ to her to upset her that much?”

“This … this is between her and me. However, when she left the apartment that night she was upset, and I feel responsible for her accident. Beyond that, I just want to be her friend, you know? I want to be the best friend I can be for her.”

“Whatever you say, man. I just don’t get it. It’s obvious there’s something going on between the pair of you, something more serious than you both let it on.”

“Nino…” Adrien said warningly.

“Don’t worry, dude, I’m not Alya. I won’t pry. But whatever is going on, just try to make sure neither of you end up more messed up than you already are, okay?”

Trying to suppress the knot in his stomach, Adrien nodded slowly, his eyes trained on the beautiful figure of his partner.

He could do this. He could be her friend.

* * *

That night, Adrien slept with the Ladybug doll held tight against his heart again.

Painfully aware that meanwhile, in Marinette’s room, the Chat Noir plush was still banished on the highest shelf.


	15. Soothing

“You’re really sure about this?”

Adrien chuckled, flipping the wooden panel he was holding, searching for its numbered tag. “Come on, Mari. How hard can this really be? I mean, it’s a bookcase, not some kind of nuclear machine. I got this.”

Marinette settled back against the couch cushions, the assembly instructions in hand and a skeptical expression schooled on her face. She exchanged a pointed look with Tikki, who stifled a giggle as they both watched Adrien, sitting in the middle of their living room, surrounded by planks and screws of various lengths, trying to figure out what part was supposed to go where.

His hair was sticking up in all directions from running his hands through it too many times throughout the evening, making him look so much like his superhero self that she once again wondered how she could’ve been blind enough to miss it when he was straight in front of her all of this time. He had taken out his contact lenses shortly after coming home from work, and he kept pushing his glasses up on his nose with his middle finger, huffing impatiently each time. He was intently focused on the task at hand, gently biting his lower lip like he always did whenever he was concentrating hard on something.

She liked that Adrien.

The entire world knew Adrien Agreste, supermodel and heir to the biggest fashion empire of Paris, the perfect son who had lost both of his parents in tragic circumstances.

A few chosen people knew the man behind the carefully crafted facade, the giant anime dork who became an adored physics teacher, who considered his friends to be his true family and was far too kind for his own well-being.

All of Paris knew Chat Noir, the selfless and brave goofball of a hero who saved them time and time again for the better part of his teenage years, who sacrificed himself to protect his partner more times than she could count, before disappearing without a trace in the midst of his ultimate victory.

But Marinette was the only one privy to this Adrien, the one that was all of them at once, but neither of them in the meantime. The one that was finally free to be truly himself around another human being, with the ups and downs of it.

The one that was hers only.

The Adrien Agreste that no one else ever got to see. The Adrien that called her “Princess” while wearing jogging pants and faded band t-shirts and liked to dance to cheesy love songs while cooking. The Adrien that sang Jagged Stone old hits at the tops of his lungs in the shower and liked his jam over the peanut butter on his toast. The Adrien that shamelessly sprouted pun after pun and inadvertently spilled coffee on his students’ papers every time he tried to grade any past midnight.

The Adrien that also knew all of her, and yet so little in the meantime.

The last few weeks had allowed them to lay the grounds of their new relationship. The time they had spent together had been soothing, comforting, both of them settling into the unfamiliar dynamic between them rather easily given the circumstances. Marinette couldn’t help but appreciate how thoughtful he was toward her, always carefully respecting her boundaries. True, there were still painfully awkward moments every once in a while, silences that stretched a little bit too long to be comfortable, or casual touches that should have been natural between close friends being hesitant, awaiting some kind of green light. But with every week that passed, the lines that defined their new friendship became more clear-cut, cozier. Living together, being together basically 24/7 felt like they were taking an intensive crash course on each other’s limits and triggers, and thankfully Adrien and she both were excellent students.

Out of mutual agreement, they carefully kept any talk of the possibility of a future romantic relationship between them off the table for the time being, both focusing on solidifying their bond first and foremost. They were both painfully aware that their previous friendship had been shaken to the core, and that they both had to put water in their wine if they hoped to build anything that would last on that fissured foundation.

They had made a silent pact of blatant honesty toward each other, which led to awkward conversations about the questionable edibility of a certain pot-au-feu and Marinette’s true appreciation of some obscure anime Adrien liked a little bit too much, but overall, their relationship was finally moving forward instead of stalling.

The agreement was clear yet unspoken, both of them trying their best to learn from their past mistakes and make the most out of it.

He kept true to his word, pulling all the stops whenever her well-being was concerned. At first, when her mobility had been severely compromised, he had been a real sweetheart to her, keeping her company dutifully and caring for her in a mother hen yet beyond respectful way. Under his patient care, she healed steadily, all traces of the accident slowly but surely vanishing to be nothing but a bad memory. Soon enough, she learned her way around on crutches, making her life a lot easier, and a lot safer in Adrien’s worried eyes.

It had taken a bit of coaxing on her part, but Adrien had finally, albeit reluctantly, agreed to go back to work the week after she got home. Even so, he still made a point to text her between classes every day, making sure she was alright and not dying out of sheer boredom alone with Tikki at home. On her part, she was consistently sending him various cat pictures and updates on her progresses in the video games he had lent her. She had taken a liking into helping Adrien with whatever she could, whether it was compiling his students results or cleaning out his pantry—why he had three half-bottles of olive oil was beyond her.

Adrien genuinely enjoyed cooking for both of them and doing all sorts of little things for her, arguing her company was a nice change of pace in his lonely life whenever she voiced the concern that he was doing way too much. He had made a habit of bringing back the best pastries from her parents bakery for Tikki and various fashion magazines for Marinette on his way from work every once in a while, being very mindful of not pressuring her into even looking at them. He just left them lying around in the apartment, without ever mentioning them.

She had stubbornly ignored the magazines at first, their very sight reminding her of everything she had given up on, all because she hadn’t been able to grieve her lost partner properly. Every single time she was seeing the familiar twinge of guilt in Adrien’s eyes whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, she felt sick to her stomach thinking of her hypocrisy.

True, he _had_ hurt her, but _she_ had let it destroy her, consume her entirely for _years_.

She knew they would have to talk it out sooner or later, that she’d have to make him understand that asking from him to be cautious with her bruised heart didn’t mean she hated him. But she wasn’t ready to face those issues yet, wasn’t ready to address his pain and deal with its implications, to acknowledge her wrongs.

Not yet.

Not when she was still learning to manage her own.

Slowly, as weeks passed by, she began to see the fashion magazines for what they truly were: a kind gesture, from someone who wanted her to heal, to move forward with her life. She tried her best to ignore the regrets creeping up on her every time she saw a new magazine appearing somewhere in the apartment, and began to go through them, absentmindedly at first, with more and more rapt attention as her interest for fashion came crashing back on her with a vengeance.

Ignoring Adrien’s frustrated huffs on the floor, Marinette looked around her, smiling to herself as she saw the subtle changes that had been made to his— _their—_ apartment over the last couple of weeks. The hot-pink mug drying in the sink beside his Grumpy Cat meme cup, the Dupain-Cheng family pictures scattered through their friends’ and Ms. Agreste portraits on the wall. As soon as they had cleared the air between them about whether or not they wanted their living arrangements to be temporary or not, Adrien had gone out of his way to ensure she’d feel as much at home as possible in their apartment, not just within the walls of her room.

He had emptied a drawer for her in the bathroom, made a point of leaving a blanket on the couch in case she’d get cold. Her Disney movie collection was carefully seated on the shelves beside his anime DVDs, and there was scented candles scattered across his action figures. And when she had mentioned in passing that she had a huge box of books in her old room that she never had the place to store in her old apartment, he had decided to go and buy a bookcase for her despite her constant protests that it was far from necessary.

Which brought them there, on a Sunday evening, with Adrien stubbornly trying to assembly said bookcase on his own, while Marinette and Tikki were watching him intently, waiting for the disaster that was bound to happen at one point or another.

“Adrien, I’m pretty sure the shelves aren’t supposed to have that upright angle. Why won’t you at least _look_ at the instructions, kitty?”

He shrugged, brandishing his screwdriver at her like a sword, “I almost got mauled by a horrible woman who wanted the last _Tidvatten_ and wouldn’t understand I didn’t even want it, so you better bet that this bookcase won’t have the last word on me, Marinette. I’ll assemble it tonight or my name isn’t Adrien Agreste.”

Tikki giggled happily, munching on a cookie, “You know, you would probably be done already if you had simply followed the instructions.”

“By that point,” Adrien protested, flipping a plank over with a puzzled look, “it has become an honor thing. I won’t get bested by a stupid bookcase.”

Forty-five minutes later, a lot of swearing on the floor and laughter on the couch, Marinette slid down on the floor, dreaded instructions in hand. She gently nudged him with her elbow, smiling.

“I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact that a physics teacher can’t figure out how to build a bookcase, or the fact that you’re still pretending you’re confident about your chances of success.”

He shot her an unimpressed look, chuckling softly, “Well, if you’re that wise, Princess, care to enlighten me?”

Tikki flew by, dropping a screw in his hand. “Here, Adrien, according to the plan, this goes in the piece ‘J’.”

“Oh, thanks Tikki,” he said absentmindedly, still trying to figure it out, before letting out a loud groan. “Okay, Mari. I surrender. I have no clue about what I’m doing. Help me?”

“Gladly, Adrien.”

* * *

The usual blood curdling scream woke her up around two forty-five.

Marinette hastily tore herself out of her bed, sharing a worried gaze with Tikki, and rushed to Adrien as fast as her crutches allowed her, heart pounding in her ears.

She swung his bedroom door open, the unsettling sound of his whimpers ripping her apart. He was still sleeping, thrashing under his blanket. His blond hair was glued to his forehead by a thin layer of cold sweat.

Like they did every single night ever since coming back from the hospital, Tikki flew to his bathroom to get a cold wet cloth, while Marinette climbed into his bed as quick as she could given her injured leg.

She crawled toward Adrien, who was now panting heavily, his eyes screwed shut and hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” he kept repeating, panic dripping from every word.

With gentle, caring gestures, Marinette took his fingers one by one, loosening them from their deathly grip on the sheets. Her touch always seemed to calm him down enough to be able to breathe almost normally. That night was no exception. As soon as her skin brushed against his he let out a long whine and curled up on himself in his bed, shivering madly.

Heartbroken, she ran her fingers through his hair, wrapping herself around him into a warm hug, pulling his head to her chest. “Gone, she’s gone. So much blood, my fault, all my fault,” he whispered against her collarbone. The lump in her throat swelled, tears of her own pooling in her eyes. Sure, she had guessed _she_ was the cause for those awful nightmares, but it was the very first time he had _talked_ during it, confirming it without any doubt.

She didn’t know for sure for how long this had been going on, but she knew his night terrors were frightening, to say the least. They happened every night without fail, and always seemed to follow the same pattern, which made dealing with them easier but also so much more heart wrenching.

Adrien refused to make a big deal out of it, arguing stubbornly that he was fine, but Marinette couldn’t help but notice that the only night she had spent at the apartment before her accident was the one where they had both been drunk into oblivion. Had he been too intoxicated to dream? Had she been sleeping too soundly to hear his scream?

After all, the night after, she had come back from her nightly escapade as Ladybug at three a.m., only to find him standing in the living room, apparently unable to sleep. He had blamed his insomnia on the Ladyblog news, but what if it had truly been the nightmares plaguing him that had woken him up that night?

She kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings against his skin. She hated those moments, where her partner was clinging to her for dear life, stuck somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Never had she seen him so vulnerable, so broken, and she despised every single second of it.

Holding him tight, she rocked him gently, listening intently to his breathing. His sobs slowly subdued, his heartbeat resumed a normal pace, and he drifted back into a deep slumber. Once she was sure he was fine, Marinette laid him back on his pillow beside his Ladybug doll carefully, and hopped out of his room.

Odds were he wouldn’t remember the last few minutes in the morning.

Ever since she had figured out how to soothe him back to sleep without him fully waking up, he didn’t seem to recall any of his nightmares.

But she did.

And with every night she had to comfort him, to chase the images of her broken body from his dreams, she realized a little further just how much the last five years had hurt _him,_ too.

Despite everything, despite her tears, her mistakes, her mourning, she couldn’t bring herself to let him down in those desperate moments of weakness. It just seemed inhumane to her to abandon him to his nightmares like a sheep to a pack of wolves.


	16. Melancholy

Having lived with Marinette for a few weeks already, Adrien had picked up on a few habits of hers. She was always removing her shoes and socks (well, singular for the time being) the second she was through the front door, always going around barefoot in the apartment. For some reason, she always put her sugar before her milk in her tea, waiting until it was completely dissolved before stirring it. She always left cookies on a plate before going to bed, in case Tikki would be hungry overnight, and she liked to braid her hair after washing it so it’d get cute waves upon drying up.

And she always had a really,  _ really  _ hard time waking up in the morning.

That’s why when, the next morning, Adrien emerged from his bedroom to find Marinette curled up on the piano bench, wrapped in a thick blanket, worry instantly crept up on him. She was clutching a fuming cup of tea into her hands, looking through the window. Melancholy was filling her eyes, obviously weighing down her shoulders, making her look small and vulnerable on the bench.

The young man sat beside her, casting a questioning glance to the kwami sleeping soundly on Marinette’s shoulder, searching in vain for an explanation to her gloomy mood. “Morning, Mari. What’s wrong, Tikki still won’t transform you?”

She turned tired eyes toward him, exhaustion clear on her face, and shrugged lightly. “Not until they remove the cast, she’s not sure it would be safe. But that’s okay, it’s not like I’d really need to anyway. Not anymore.”

He looked at her with worried eyes. “What’s the matter then? You looked really sad just now. Talk to me, Mari, you know I’m your friend.”

There was a long and heavy silence in which she averted her eyes from him. He could feel her shake beside him as he waited, unwilling to pry her defenses open, and he almost didn’t hear her when she sighed softly, “How long has it been, Adrien?”

His breath hitched in his throat because he knew right away exactly what she was talking about. The nightmares had been getting way worse lately, he was well aware of it, but so far it had always been kept some kind of elephant in the room between them, acknowledged but unaddressed. Her eyes were heavy with worry on him, and guilt piled up in his stomach unpleasantly. He hated to do that to her, to be the cause of this frown on her beautiful face. “Oh. Did I wake you up again? I’m sor—”

“You spoke in your sleep this time,” she cut him off, voice shaking with unshed tears. “And you made it pretty clear that  _ I’m  _ the cause of the horrible nightmares plaguing you.”

“Oh gosh, Marinette, I’m sorry. I—” Adrien stammered, dread weighing heavily in his gut.

She didn’t let him finish his unnecessary apology, instead shifting on the seat to face him, her hands hesitantly finding his in his lap. “Adrien, this is simply horrifying. How long has it been going on?”

Adrien let out a long sigh. Their agreement to be bluntly honest with each other was always at the forefront of his mind, but the last thing he wanted to do was worry her further. On the other hand, she was the one getting woken up every single night by his desperate screams of agony and rushing to his side despite her own injury impairing her mobility considerably. He owed her the truth, no matter how upsetting it was. “The nightmares returned ever since I’ve stopped taking my sleeping pills.”

Her thumb gently stroked the side of his hand in comforting circles and his heart picked up a few beats in his chest. How could she not see the effect she had on him, the power she had always held upon him, he couldn’t tell. She looked through the window again, and she asked softly, “When was that?”

Again, Adrien knew that the truth wouldn’t please her, not when she was so closely concerned. “I’ve been off them since you moved in with me. I wanted to be able to wake up should you need me in the middle of the night. And before you ask, no, I’m not taking them again. Not now.”

She let out a long sigh and leaned onto him, her hair gently brushing under his chin. “What triggered this, Adrien?”

He took a deep breath to steel himself against the assault of painful memories. “Hawkmoth’s fight. Fighting as Chat Noir and then dealing with the huge mess caused by my father’s imprisonment as Adrien... When I finally collapsed into bed that night, those images would replay in loop in my mind. When he tried to strangle you, when I pushed him in the police car… Snippets of my mom, too. I just couldn’t sleep. I lasted a week before I begged Nino to do something about it, anything… He took me to the doc’s, where I got some sleeping pills prescribed. They  _ do _ make my nights... dreamless, if you want, but I sleep like a log. I’m basically impossible to wake up until they wear off. I hate it.”

She looked like his words had just cut her heart open, but she answered quietly, “That night, when I came back at three a.m. and you caught me coming through the living room window, was that…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the weight of her head on his shoulder, the feeling of her thumb on his skin, her shallow breathing. “I just had another nightmare that night, yes. A rather violent one, where you and Ladybug were both trapped into your burning apartment building. It was the first time you ever starred in my night terrors, but it made much more sense once you revealed yourself later that night.”

“And last night?” she asked almost shyly, an obvious tremor in her voice.

"The car crash." He let out a bitter laugh. "Seems to be a fave now. I keep seeing it. The moment I found you. All the blood and metal. Sometimes... sometimes my brain plays tricks on me. Mixes things. Hawkmoth’s driving, or I'm on the side road and watching like it’s from a movie. Or he's strangling Marinette instead of Ladybug. Or... either way. I lose you. And it’s my fault."

A first tear landed on his hand, a hot spot of sorrow, and she suddenly was shaking with silent sobs beside him on the bench. He hesitated for a second, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, but as soon as he tentatively opened his arms she instantly curled up against his chest, crying quietly into the crook of his neck.

She cried for long minutes, spilling a long string of mumbled apologies as he held her in silence. After a while, he gently squeezed her shoulder. “You know, whenever I woke up in the middle of the night, I used to play piano to take my mind off of things. I could play for you? I mean, if you want me to, that is—”

Thankfully, she took pity on him, lifting a misty gaze toward him and smiling weakly through her tears and answering before he could stumble over his words even further, “I’d like that very much, thank you.”

His slender fingers spread elegantly over the black and white keys, and seconds later, the first few notes of a  [ familiar melody ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_aMkMVi758) filled up the apartment, earning Adrien a soft chuckle from Marinette.

“ _ Twinkle Twinkle Little Star _ ? Really?”

Adrien cast a glance at her sideways, a warm, fond smile stretching his lips. “Don’t worry, that was just a warm up for my fingers. Here comes the real deal. Hold on to your crown, Princess, let the music blow you away and soothe your upset mind.”

And it did. His fingers glided effortlessly on the keys in a beautiful and well-rehearsed dance, playing  [ a magnificent song ](https://youtu.be/ezQQa1lOhjQ) that had the young woman gasp in awe softly by his side, clutching her hands on her heart. With a fond smile, Adrien played the song for her, carefully watching his friend and partner being enthralled by the soothing melody, listening to the notes intently with her eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips.

When the song eventually came to a stop, all too soon, Marinette sighed contentedly. “This was beautiful, Adrien, really. I wish I could do magic like you.”

He chuckled softly, taking her hands and placing them on the keys. “This isn’t magic. I bet I could teach you! Look, see that key here? That’s middle C.” He ran his hands over the white keys. “These ones are the naturals, the black ones are flats and sharps. You place yours hands like this, and try not to let them cross while you play…”

A single glance at her told him that she was completely confused, and he laughed heartily. “Okay, let’s start small. Put your hands on mine, I’m gonna play it again. Try to focus on what I’m doing and—” He suddenly realized what he had just asked from her, and he instantly backpedaled, horrified with his forwardness, “Oh gosh, I’m sorry Mari, I’m overstepping the boundaries real bad right now, and—”

“Stop that, Adrien. You’re… you’re still one of my best friends, despite everything.” Her eyes found his, eager to convey the sincerity behind her words, to make him understand where they really stood with each other.

“I— I am?” he stammered weakly, staring at her disbelievingly.

“You have to understand, Kitty,” she said, placing her hands on his like he had requested. “Ladybug is mad at Chat Noir, but Adrien never wronged Marinette. I’m going to need a little time to reconcile both of your personas, and learn to trust my lost partner again, but we are still  _ friends,  _ okay?”

Adrien felt tears pricking at his eyes upon hearing those words, words long awaited, confirming that there was still hope for them, someday. He nodded, weakly, and tried to shake the heavy emotional baggage of the still early day off. “I… I think I have a music sheet for a really easy song called  _ Chopsticks,  _ perfect for beginners. It must be somewhere with my childhood stuff, I’m going to fetch it.”

He stood up a bit too fast, her hands dropping in her own thighs with a soft thud, and dashed toward his bedroom, hoping with all his being that she hadn’t seen the tears rolling down his cheeks. Being blatantly honest with each other was important, that much he couldn’t agree more with her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hoping to save a little dignity for himself.

Little did he know, Tikki had woken up shortly after her charge had dissolved in tears in his arms, and had quietly escaped to a secret haven of hers.

As soon as Adrien set foot into his room, his eyes instantly fell on the small red creature curled up in front of the safe, rocking back and forth as she whimpered softly, “I’m so, so sorry Plagg. I miss you so much, and this is all my fault. I should’ve listened to you back then, if only I hadn’t been so stubborn. What a cruel fate, being imprisoned in a metal cage for so long… I’m so, so, so sorry.”

Adrien involuntary gasped, catching the kwami’s attention in a heartbeat. She turned big, wet blue eyes toward him, sniffling softly. “Oh. Adrien.”

“I miss him too.”

The words fell out of his lips before he even thought about them, a long overdue admittance of a grief he hadn’t been able to share with anyone. A grief he had brought upon himself, true, but a pain just as great as losing his blood-related family, as betraying his beloved partner.

But there, standing on the threshold of his bedroom, facing the guilt-ridden little kwami, he was merely more than a boy, a lost boy without his bearings.

Tikki let out a small sob and darted toward Adrien, almost colliding with his cheek mid-flight. She nuzzled against his warm skin, hot tears spilling on his collar, unbidden. “I miss him so much, Adrien.”

Tears of his own glided down his cheeks as the giant void Plagg had left into his life was brought back at the forefront of his mind. 

He missed the stubborn little kwami. There was no questioning it. He missed the playful banter, the care carefully hidden behind a wall of sarcasm. He even missed the constant aroma of Camembert following him around wherever he went.

Adrien was about to tell Tikki about how wrong he had been to remove the ring in the first place when a familiar, nasal voice interrupted him.

“Are you two done with the waterworks yet?”


	17. Letters

Marinette curled herself up on the piano bench, patiently waiting for Adrien’s return. She had seen how moist his eyes had been when he had excused himself to his bedroom, but seeing how ostensibly he had tried to hide his face from her as he got up, she chose to keep it to herself. Besides, that time alone would give her some much needed time to pull herself together, to organize her thoughts.

She hadn’t expected Adrien to be so blatantly honest with her about his night terrors. True, they both had been getting better at telling the truth to each other, but she had fully expected him to politely ask her to drop the matter, or to switch topics to a safe one. Instead, he had bared his soul to her, bringing back memories of a time where Chat Noir and her had been much closer. Much happier.

She heard gasps and whispers coming from his room, but seeing as Tikki had vacated her spot in her lap moments before, she figured her friends were having a conversation of their own over there, and it just didn’t feel right to intrude.

A shrill ringtone suddenly pulled her out of her thoughts. It was Adrien’s phone, lying forgotten on the couch. The upbeat song made her smile as she got up, reaching for the electronic device. “Adrien Agreste’s phone, how may I help you?”

“Oh, erm, I’m sorry to disturb you, Madame, but is Monsieur Agreste okay? His morning class started thirty minutes ago and he has yet to show up at school.”

Marinette’s heart came to a stop in her chest as her eyes drifted to the clock hung above the kitchen table. Whoever was on the other end of the line, they were right. Adrien usually left an hour earlier than it currently was.

“Oh. I’m really sorry, but I was feeling unwell this morning, so Adrien stayed back to take care of me. He must’ve not realized how time flew by, I’m gonna send him right over. Sorry for any inconvenience.”

The woman giggled, before adding happily, “Don’t worry, Madame, I’ll let the substitute teacher know Monsieur Agreste is on his way. I hope you have a speedy recovery. Have a nice day.”

The line disconnected before Marinette had the chance to process what had just been said. Clutching the phone into a deadly grip, she laboriously made her way to Adrien’s bedroom. She stopped on the threshold, balancing herself on the crutches, staring at the scene laid out before her with her mouth agape, her eyes darting from the kwamis to Adrien back and forth, trying desperately to assess the situation correctly. 

A very angry Plagg was floating mid-air, glaring openly at a bashful Tikki. The luck kwami was huddled against Adrien’s cheeks, that were covered in hot, salty tears. The scene was shocking, to say the least, but also poignant and heart wrenching in a way.

The phone slipped from her fingers, and she whispered softly, “Plagg?”

The black deity turned toward her, raising a questioning eyebrow to her. “Hey, LB. Dumb and Dumber here are too shocked by my grandiose return to be useful. Got cheese?”

Marinette nodded slowly, backtracking out of the room, but before she was even out the door, Plagg’s voice burst out again, loud and clear, “And you, closed-minded, obtuse and insensitive Tikki, how do you  _ dare  _ touch him? Get your stubborn paws off my charge, and  **_now._ ** ”

Tikki’s eyes widened, but she obeyed, floating away from Adrien as she hugged herself. “Plagg, please hear me out, I—”

“No!” he cut her off, anger seeping in each and every of his words, “ _ you  _ listen, for a change. You broke my kitten, you stupid, rule-lover and stubborn bug.  **_This_ ** is all your doing, Tikki. I warned you we needed to bend the rules for this kitten, just this once. But you refused to even entertain the possibility that we could be fighting his father!”

“Don’t you think that you’re being a little harsh on her, Plagg?” Adrien tried to interject. 

A fatal mistake.

Plagg turned to him, eyes twitching with rage. “Don’t you get me started, kid. I didn’t train a coward who flees from his problems instead of facing the music. What were you thinking, removing the ring like that? I was all you had left, and you locked me into a stupid safe!”

“I didn’t think I deserved you anymore…” Adrien whispered, sustaining the angry kwami’s gaze.

“Bogus!” Plagg spat, “that’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard! You were the most brilliant kitten I ever had, you two kids defeated Hawkmoth without any casualties. Who cares that the big villain turned out to be the father you barely knew anyway? Actions speak louder than words or blood, Adrien, I thought I had taught you that.”

Adrien bowed his head down in shame, but managed to say softly, “I’m sorry, Plagg. I've been an idiot. I missed you. Every day.”

To Marinette’s surprise, the little black kwami huffed frustratingly, but flew right into his charge’s chest, pressing his cheek against the fabric of Adrien’s shirt. “I know, kid.”

She watched with tear-filled eyes as Adrien closed his hands around his old friend, hugging him tightly as tears of his own ran freely down his face. His eyes were closed, but the relieved smile plastered to his lips was eloquent enough on his own: Adrien had just gotten a huge piece of himself back.

Marinette’s eyes suddenly fell on his discarded phone on the floor, and the reason that had brought her in his bedroom in the first place came crashing back on her with an unpleasant aftertaste. “Oh! Adrien, I meant to tell you, school just called, you—”

Panicked green eyes landed on her, as Adrien gasped loudly, releasing Plagg, “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot about my class!”

He picked up his phone and hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head, forgetting all about his surroundings. Marinette squeaked inelegantly and tumbled back, exiting the room as quick as the crutches would allow her to. “I-I-I’m going to punch your lack, erm, I mean, pack your lunch.”

“Thanks, Mari, you’re the best,” came her friend’s muffled voice, apparently blissfully unaware of the fiery blush spreading on his roommate’s face.

Plagg, who had followed her into the kitchen, snickered as he landed on top of the refrigerator. “What’s wrong, bug? Flustered by a little bit of skin?”

“Who’s flustered?”

Marinette let out a loud yelp, startled by how close Adrien’s voice had come from. He was standing at the kitchen’s entrance, clad into clean black slack and an ocean blue shirt. He was currently busy trying to fit his arms through the sleeves of a gray pullover, and thankfully wasn’t looking at her.

Marinette finished packing his lunch, putting the things he had set aside for himself the previous night in his lunchbox, blatantly dodging his question. For the first time, she was grateful that he liked to use his lunch hour to get some grading done and dispense additional lessons to struggling students, since it would give her a few more hours to put herself together. Adrien finally managed to put his sweater on and took the box she was handing him, a radiant smile lighting up his face. “Thank you so much. Do you need help getting comfortable in the living room?”

His kindness melted her heart a little bit further. He was already very late to work, and yet he was still thinking about her above anything else. “I’ll be fine, hurry up, your students are missing you.”

Adrien lightly pecked her on the forehead and bid her a good day before disappearing out the front door, welcoming her reminder to get breakfast on his way to school with a hearty laugh. Noticing something odd as the door closed behind him, Marinette frowned deeply, which didn’t go unnoticed by Plagg.

“What’s wrong, Ladybug? Missing your husband already?”

Absentmindedly, Marinette kept her eyes on the now closed door, but mumbled in answer, “My name’s Marinette, Plagg, and no… This sweater… It looks awful on Adrien. It’s not a flattering cut for him, and the wool’s too thick for someone as lean as him. It’s just… I don’t know, it just—.”

Suddenly, she spun on her crutches, hopping to Adrien’s home office with a newfound determination in her step. Tikki, who had remained silently watching so far, darted in front of her, a worried expression on her little face. “Marinette, what’s the matter?”

“Adrien has paper in his office, I’ll probably find some pencils there too. Definitely needs longer sleeves and it definitely needs to be more form-fitting… I wonder if a V-neck would look better over his shirt, or if something with buttons would be better?” She pushed the door, not bothering to check if the kwamis were still following her before dropping in Adrien’s office chair, successfully pulling out a tablet of paper from the first drawer. She began to sketch absentmindedly, words spilling out of her lips unbidden as she compared looks, and tried to settle on a type of sweater.

Satisfied with the outcomes of her analysis, she pulled the drawer open again to put the tablet away, announcing happily, “Plagg, Tikki, we need to—”

The rest of her sentence died in her throat as her eyes fell on a heavy folder, resting at the bottom of the drawer. Two single letters were identifying it, an L and a B drawn in Adrien’s elegant handwriting.  _ LB. _

Marinette’s breath hitched in her throat. Part of her thought that she had no right intruding into in personal thoughts like this, that she should just close the drawer and forget she ever saw it in the first place. Sensing her hesitation, Plagg opened the cover for her, landing back on the desk with a shrug. “Don’t fret over it. It was for you in the first place.”

Her curiosity piqued, Marinette let her eyes wander on the first page, and her world came to a stop.

* * *

~~_ My Lady _ _ ,  _ _ Ladybug _ _ , m _ _ y beloved _ _ ,  _ _ Buginette _ ~~ _~~,~~ Bug, _

_ I’m just writing to let you know how sorry I am for the way I disappeared on you, for the way I let you down when you probably needed me the most. _

_ Looking back on that day, I can’t believe I did that, that I just vanished without even telling you that I was somewhat okay, physically at least.  _

_ That fight… It was just  _ ~~_ too much _ ~~ _ overwhelming. How close you came to dying at his hands, his identity, the reporters swarming us the second we stepped foot out… I lost it. _

_ The last two weeks have been a living hell for me. How I’ve pulled through them I don’t have a clue, but it’s just a blurry mess of tears and cries and drama in my civilian life. I can’t tell you too much without revealing you who I am, and that’s the last thing I want to do right now. _

_ I know you’re probably anxious to start your life anew, without the burden of your double life standing in your way and weighing you down. You’re an amazing woman, bug, fated to do great things. My only regret is that I won’t be by your side to witness them anymore. _

_ Just know that I’ll cherish forever the memories of our friendship.  _ ~~_ I love you, Ladybug. _ ~~ _ Screw that, you’ll never see my face again, so it probably won’t hurt you to finally  _ ~~_ hear _ ~~ _ read it, won’t it? _

_ I love you. _

_ I love you LB, with every single cell of my body. I’ve loved you ever since the day you fell on me from the sky, and that love only grew from there. _

_ I’m really struggling without you now, you’ve always been the one to tether me to sanity, to cheer me up whenever I felt unwanted or down. You were always my best friend, my everything, my safe haven. _

_ Please, Ladybug, little lady luck behind the mask, please be happy on my behalf. Live your life to the fullest, pursue your dreams, reach for the stars. _

_ You deserve nothing less. _

_ Thank you for those precious years of friendship,  _

~~_ Your Kitty _ _ ,  _ _ your knight in shining armor _ _ ,  _ _ Chat Noir, _ ~~

_ Yours _

* * *

 

_ LB, _

_ I haven’t been able to deliver the previous letter, and I hate myself for it. _

_ It might seem silly to write a follow-up when I know perfectly well you haven’t read the first one, but I really need to get the words off my chest.  _

_ Had I known that things would end up like this, there are so many things I would’ve done differently. _

_ My kwami is gone, bug. I removed the ring, because I’m not worthy of being Chat Noir anymore. I can’t explain why I did without revealing too much, but for the first time in years, I realize how  _ ~~_ difficult _ ~~ _ tedious it can be to travel through Paris without a magic pole to vault yourself over buildings. _

~~_ Wanting to remain hidden _ ~~ _ Having to hide my whereabouts from my  _ ~~_ friend _ ~~ _ relatives considerably complicates the operation too, way more than I had expected. _

_ There was footage of you updated on the Ladyblog today. You were crying, sitting on our rooftop. People are gossiping, saying you’re out searching for me, but you and I know better than that, don’t we? _

_ There is no way you’d be that upset over just missing a friend, wouldn't you? _

_ I wish I could be with you, comfort you about whatever is upsetting you in your civilian life. _

_ I might be watching from afar, my Lady, but know that my heart’s still with you. I only wish you the best, and even beyond that. _

_ I love you, my fair lady, my heart, melody of my soul. _

_ Your devoted kitty _

* * *

 

The letters were all of the same essence. He was talking about his days, his issues with his father, his troubles adjusting to his new life, dropping little hints about his identity here and there that she probably wouldn’t have picked up on without knowing his identity. 

As the months went by, then the years, the letters went less and less emotional, still carrying that obvious fondness and deep affection toward her, but sounding more and more like a diary. She flicked through the pages, losing herself into her dearest friend’s deepest thoughts, in the story of his years without her by his side.

Her heart clenched in her chest as she realized the exact place she held in his. Every single day at first, he had thought about her, he had written to her. The pace had slowed down after a bit, dropping back to every other day, every week, every month, every milestone. But it was nonetheless an impressive collection of his thoughts, all dated and carefully tucked into a binder in chronological order. Long, heartfelt missives, short recapitulations of his days, hilarious rants about anime and comics.

So Chat Noir, but so Adrien in the meantime.

Marinette flipped the pages to the end, breath caught in her throat as her eyes fell on the last entry.

* * *

_ My lady, _

_ I never thought I’d see the day I’d even consider having my heart beat for another woman than you.  _

_ You literally fell from the sky when I was 15, meaning I have spent the last 8 years of my life hopelessly in love with you. _

_ I’ve always cherished your memory, bug. To me, you’ll always be that caring, smart, sassy, funny and stubborn bug I’ve known. I know I can’t pretend to know you anymore, but I sure hope that somewhere deep inside, I’m still the man you trusted with your life and thought about as your best friend. _

_ There is not a day that pass where I don’t regret losing you. So if our paths were ever to cross again, I sincerely hope you’ll understand why I can’t let Marinette slip away too. _

_ She’s amazing, bug. You’d love her. She’s the first real friend I ever had in school, the first one that didn’t care about my name or my face. _

_ But she’s broken. _

_ I don’t know who or what hurt her like that, but she’s barely the shadow of herself anymore. And I want to help her. I want to be there for her, I want to help her put back together the pieces of her life. _

_ I want to be for her what I couldn’t be for you. _

_ Standing there, on that sidewalk, watching her building burn… She seemed so lost, so vulnerable. She reminded me so much of myself, in those days following Hawkmoth’s imprisonment… _

_ I took her in. I helped her buy clothes and other essentials, and she’s being really self-conscious about it. Is there a way to tell her I don’t care about money without sounding like a jerk? I guess not. _

_ And last night, I almost kissed her. _

_ We were both drunk beside ourselves, and chances are she doesn’t recall any of it. And even if she does, she probably thinks I don’t remember it, and I sure won’t bring it up again. I’m too ashamed of myself. _

_ But she’s beautiful, LB. You should see her eyes, a blue so pure, so magnificent. And even if her smiles are spare these days, they are little gems of happiness I can’t help but treasure. _

_ I think I’m falling in love with her, bug. _

_ You’re still constantly on my mind, and there’s not a day where I don’t miss you, but I’d be a fool to try to deny Marinette has a strong grip on my heart.  _

_ Wish me luck, Buginette, as I’m going to try and win her bruised heart, and hopefully prevent anyone from hurting her ever again. _

_ Your silly kitty. _

* * *

 

“He really tried, you know.”

The voice startled Marinette out of her reading, and she looked over at a rather disgruntled Plagg. The little kwami looked pointedly away from her, munching happily on his piece of Camembert.

“The only  _ effective  _ way of putting a kwami in complete dormancy is to put our miraculouses back into those special magic boxes Master Fu hides so well. So for the last five years or so, I’ve been trapped into that stupid safe, but conscious about what was happening in the apartment. Therefore, I’ve been an unwilling witness to Adrien’s downward spiral.” 

Tikki perched herself on Marinette’s shoulder, visibly still unwilling to speak and irk her counterpart even further. Marinette gently patted her, trying to soothe her a little, and she looked at Plagg’s, her partner’s kwami, saying softly, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know Adrien like I do. That kid was considered a company asset by his very own father. All of his life, he was raised with the glory of the Agreste name in mind. He was never allowed to be a child, to make mistakes, to fail at anything, all for the sake of his patronym. Finding out who Hawkmoth was, it… It broke him. And just how I had expected, he was alone to deal with it all.”

“But Nino was there…” Marinette said weakly, despite knowing that it had been far from enough. Nino  _ had  _ been by his friend’s side, day and night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t understand.

Not like  _ she _ would have.

Plagg snickered. “Now you understand. Tikki had drilled that archaic idea so deep in both of your minds, that your identities were to remain secret at all costs, no matter what, even to spare yourselves endless amounts of pain… It was a train wreck waiting to happen. Sure enough, Adrien could’ve revealed himself to his friend, and get the real support he needed, but… I guess nobody knows who you are either, bug? Why keep the secret so long?”

Plagg was speaking without harshness in his tone, just stating the things as they had happened, matter-of-factly. Marinette sustained his heavy gaze, and whispered, “I couldn’t… It felt like betraying him… He had to know first.”

“There you go. Adrien had the same blind loyalty issue toward you. He wrote those letters, and tried to deliver them to you, to at least give you some sort of closure. At first he couldn’t get away from the boy with the glasses long enough to take the trip to your spot on foot, and the hotel where he was hiding was swarmed by reporters. Time passed, and then it became pointless. He figured you probably already hated him for disappearing on you without an explanation, and felt like he deserved it fully.”

Marinette stared at Plagg for long seconds, letting his words and their implications fully sink in, before an upbeat ringtone pulled her out of her thoughts. Recognizing her best friend’s assigned song, she cheerfully answered, “Hey Alya!”

The playful, soothing voice of Alya welcomed her greeting. “I miss you Mari, Nino and I were thinking drinks and games tonight, are you and Adrien up for that? Are you feeling well enough?”

“I miss you guys too, and I’m sure Adrien would love that.” As she spoke, her eyes fell onto her doodles, and an idea popped into her head. “Say… Beforehand, I’d like to run a few errands. Could you drive me?”

Alya chuckled on the other end of the line, “Sure thing, Mari. Let me grab my coat and I’ll be right over. See you in ten?”

“Thanks, Al, you’re the best. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

With a satisfied smile, Marinette pulled herself up and grabbed her crutches. “Kwamis, we’re going out.”

“Where are we going?” Tikki asked shyly, casting worried glances at Plagg, as if she was fearing he would snap at her for daring to breathe.

“I have a sweater to find.”


	18. Blanket Fort

“Adrien Agreste, get me down right this instant!”

A loud chuckle answered her, and Marinette crossed her arms in front of her, pouting playfully. Looking intently at the mischievous blond sprawled out on the couch, his glass of wine almost empty, she sighed without succeeding in hiding her smile, “How manly of you, you proved you were able to lift a petite woman with a broken leg. Now can I come down?”

Nino laughed in turn, holding up his glass. “I don’t know man, she does make a pretty kitchen decoration. Maybe you should leave her there permanently?”

“Hey!”

Grinning, Alya finally came to her rescue and helped her down the kitchen countertop where Adrien had perched her to escape her merciless tickling. Marinette dropped onto the couch, setting the crutches aside, and accepted the glass of wine Adrien was handing her with a grateful smile.

“Marinette and I need to unwind from our shopping trip, do you guys want to play a game?” Alya offered, the playful glint in her eyes that always announced the best of nights.

Watching her fill up a few shots of tequila, Adrien asked warily, “What did you have in mind?”

“How about  _ Most likely _ ?” she answered with a smirk, perfectly aware that her friends would protest for the show but eventually cave in. They all not-so-secretly loved those evenings where they set their worries aside to be silly and have fun together.

“Ok, ok! I got a good one,” announced Nino soon enough. “Who is most likely to be the first one to die in a zombie apocalypse?”

Alya pointed to Adrien, but the three others fingers drifted unmistakably toward herself. “Hey!” she tried to protest, but her laughter betrayed her. “I’m resourceful, you know, guys!”

“Nobody says you aren’t, Al. But out of the four of us, you’d be the one out there running  _ after  _ the zombies.”

“Fair enough.” She downed her shooter, and looked at Adrien with a malicious glint in her eyes. “Alright, Pretty Boy. Who is most likely to appear on some reality show?”

Adrien promptly designated Nino, and his eyes widened when he noticed three fingers in his direction. “Why me? Reality shows dig musicians!”

“First of all, the musicians that end up on those shows are all has-beens, thank you very much, and you can’t tell me that the exciting life of Adrien Agreste wouldn’t make the tabloids.”

“I’ll drink to the future success of ‘ _ Keeping up with the Agreste’ _ then.” Adrien laughed as the tequila glided in his throat. “My turn. Who is most likely to cry because of a sad movie?”

To his astonishment, all fingers pointed toward him, accompanied by various giggles and chuckles around the living room. Marinette took a sip from her drink, eyeing him mischievously. “Come on, Adrien. You cried watching Air Bud last week. You really walked into that one.”

With a frustrated groan, he downed another shot before saying, “Ok then. Who is most likely to die of something stupid?”

Every finger pointed toward Marinette this time, even Marinette’s. She laughed, reaching for the shot glass Nino was handing her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I’m so clumsy I’ll probably end up pricking my finger to death with a needle or something.”

Marinette grimaced as she swallowed the tequila, and eyed her friends carefully. “Ok, let’s see… who is most likely to forget important birthdays?”

Marinette and Alya both pointed Nino, laughing heartily, while Adrien pointed at Alya and Nino at Marinette. Both girls raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Marinette crossed her arms over her chest. “Care to explain, boys?”

“Easy enough,” Nino ventured. “Marinette always remembers birthdays at the last possible second and panics over making the perfect gift.”

“Well, Alya can’t remember birthdays on her own,” Adrien added with a smirk. “I always make sure to keep her in the loop with everyone’s birthdays, and I know Marinette always reminds her of mine.”

Alya looked at Marinette with a pointed look, and the latter smirked. Whatever they had on Nino, they looked fairly confident that they would win. With a teasing tone, Marinette said, “Nino, you forgot  _ your own  _ birthday last year.”

The loud groan of defeat that escaped Nino’s lips threw Adrien into fits of laughter, and he found himself gazing fondly at Marinette while his friend was gulping the dreaded shot of vodka. 

Their laughs and their playful banter lasted well into the evening, and shortly before midnight Nino and Alya bid them goodnight, returning to their own apartment.

Left on their own, Adrien smiled at Marinette, who was still sitting on the couch, looking at the kwamis who had came out of their hiding spot as soon as the door had closed behind their friends. They were now cuddling into Marinette’s wool basket, Tikki scratching behind Plagg’s ears lazily as they whispered quietly among themselves. They had had a lot of time on their hands to talk things through, and Adrien found himself curious to know what had transpired between the magical pair. Plagg was letting Tikki touch him, which was an incredible improvement and gave the young man hopes that maybe the cat kwami’s anger wasn’t permanent.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Marinette, sitting beside her on the couch.

She turned toward him, shifting her leg aside to get more comfortable. “I’m fine. I’ve switched to water a while ago, and I haven’t drank that much to begin with.”

Adrien reached forward, grabbing the blanket that was lying on the armchair. He draped it over them both, holding the television remote out. “I’m okay too. Wanna watch a movie?”

“I found the letters.”

She had said the words calmly, looking at him with questioning eyes. When he failed to answer right away, she scrambled to explain herself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I was looking for paper and-”

“They were for you to begin with.” Adrien answered truthfully, sustaining her gaze to ensure that she would know that he didn’t resent her for reading them. He had intended to give them to her eventually anyway, once the dust would have settled between them and their relationship was sturdier. 

She looked away from him, her gaze falling once again on the now-asleep kwamis. “That’s what Plagg said too. He wanted me to read them.”

Adrien suddenly stood up, pushing the couch backwards. Marinette squealed loudly, staring at him with panicked eyes, “What the heck are you doing?”

“This is a conversation meant for a blanket fort, so I’m making one,” he explained plainly as he briefly disappeared into a cupboard, pulling out all of the blankets and cushions he owned.

He worked efficiently, moving the furniture around and draping the blankets over it, stacking the cushions underneath in a way that created  some sort of comfortable nest for them. Adrien could feel the weight of Marinette’s gaze watching him move around in the living room, and he made a point to send her comforting smiles every now and then. 

Once he was satisfied with the blanket fort he had built, he hurried to the kitchen to fetch a plate of cookies along with some milk, before returning to his friend with his bounty. 

“Your castle’s ready, princess,” he announced proudly as he helped a giggling Marinette down the couch and into their fort. 

With his help, she managed to settle herself comfortably on the cushions, and lifted curious eyes to him. “What is that all about?”

Memories flooded his mind, old emotions he was used to push away surfacing, unbidden. He forced the words out, forced himself to be honest with her. He owed her that much.

“When I… When I was a kid, before mom… she used to build a fort with me when I was upset. It always pissed off Father whenever he came home from work to find all the house’s blanket and pillows in the living room… But it was our thing, you know?”

Marinette grabbed for a cookie, watching him carefully. “So you are upset right now?”

Adrien looked at her, lying beside him in the comforting cocoon of their fort. The same feeling of safety he had always felt as a child was filling his heart, the same familiar sensation of wellbeing. Like everything would be alright in the end.

A feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Ever since his mother had disappeared.

But there, watching Marinette’s kind eyes, the way her dark hair were falling from behind her ear, hearing her soft, even breathing beside him, filled him with peace and warmth.

“I’m not upset. You had every right to read those letters.”

“Plagg said he wanted us to reveal ourselves to each other back then.” Marinette’s voice was even, soft. He could tell she was walking on eggshells, toying around the elephant in the room that was bothering both of them.

He reached for her hand tentatively, releasing a sigh of relief when he felt her fingers wrapping themselves around his. “He did. Insisted a lot, actually. He was always saying stuff about how I would regret it if we didn’t, how I would end up alone and broken.”

“You never told me any of this.” Again, there was no accusation, no anger behind her words. Just the plain fact, stated as it was.

“It would have been disrespectful, Mari,” he sighed, looking at their blanket ceiling. “You were against the idea, and your kwami shot you down every time you questioned it. I… I just thought Plagg was being dramatic, and brushed it off.”

“But when we defeated Hawkmoth…”

He nodded, aware that she barely could see him in the darkness of their hideout. “I… I never thought that I’d lose the remaining half of my family that day, you know? All of these years…” His breath caught in his throat, and he struggled to go on. Marinette’s warm fingers gently squeezed his, encouraging him to continue. “I was never good enough. Perfect grades, fencing medals, piano recitals… Nothing I did ever mattered to him… Not enough to take some of his time for me without an appointment.”

Marinette’s horror upon hearing those words was clear as day on her face, but now that the words he had bit back for so long were out there, he couldn’t bear the idea of stopping midway. “And… finding out that while I was busting my ass out there trying to be enough for him, he was busy terrorizing Paris and trying to hurt the only person who still cared about me… It was… It was horrible, Mari. I couldn’t look myself in the mirror without seeing him, Plagg was giving me the silent treatment for ignoring his warnings…”

This time, the sob escaped his lips, but it was muffled by Marinette’s arms wrapping around his head, hugging him tightly. “I would have been there for you, Adrien. We would have gone through this mess together.”

“I know,” he breathed in her hair. “This… Suddenly nothing made sense anymore, you know? I couldn’t be Chat Noir, I couldn’t be Gabriel Agreste’s son. I was nobody. Worst thing is…” he sniffled loudly in her neck, expecting her to pull away, but she just held on him tighter. “I knew. I knew that if I came to you, you’d help me out, that you wouldn’t judge me. But I didn’t want to bother you with my shitty family matters…”

“Not when you thought I had things going south in  _ my  _ civilian life because of what you saw everyday on the Ladyblog,” Marinette finished for him.

He chuckled, pushing his overwhelming emotions back to grab a cookie. “Hey, how was I supposed to know you were missing your stray cat?” he teased half-heartedly.

“You could always have asked,” Marinette answered in the same teasing tone, stealing what was left of his cookie before his could react. “Honestly, how it never even brushed your mind that I was upset because you suddenly vanished is beyond me.”

“Why would you have?” Adrien shrugged. “I was only the hot-headed sidekick that always got in your way. I… I didn’t feel I was worth even a second glance from you and-”

Marinette sat upright at that, staring at him with an offended expression, “How dare you, Adrien Agreste? Maybe your father was stupid enough to make you feel like you weren’t enough for him, but you were always more than enough for me. You saved my ass more times than I can count.” 

Adrien laughed genuinely at that, relieved that all the secrets were finally out in the open between them. They stayed like that for a while, lying side by side in their fort, reveling in each other’s presence. Marinette’s breathing deepened eventually, and he knew she was drifting off to sleep. “Hey, princess?”

“Yes, kitty cat?” she answered a bit sleepily.

“I know you’re not ready, and I’m completely fine with it. But I meant every single word in those letters, and I still do.”

“I know, Adrien.” Marinette yawned loudly, stretching beside him. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Alright, let’s get you to bed, Sleepyhead.”

She tried to protest, but another yawn overcame her, and she let him pick her up to help her to her room. She must have been more tired than she had let it show, because her head gently lulled against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed. 

As he laid Marinette carefully onto her bed, Adrien tried to overlook how much the sight of her Chat Noir plush still sitting in timeout on her shelf brought back a bunch of mixed emotions.

Back in his room, he pressed his Ladybug doll on his heart and slowly drifted to sleep, his mind full of happier times when he chased his partner across rooftops in a leather catsuit.


	19. Breathtaking

When Marinette woke up the next morning, the first thing her eyes fell on was the warm grey woolen fabric of the sweater she had purchased for Adrien with Alya the day before. With a fond smile, she reached for the cloth resting on her bedside table and unfolded it, running her fingers on the soft fabric. It was a simple popover sweater, made out of a quality thick wool knit. The shawl collar would accentuate Adrien’s slender neck, and the two shiny buttons sewed at collarbone level added just a hint of flair to the garment.

It was gorgeous, and Marinette couldn’t wait to see how it would look on Adrien’s model figure.

Her head was still full of Adrien and her discussion of the previous evening, of the way he had bared his entire soul before her. He had opened a clearly very guarded door for her, and she was grateful he had let her understand better the reasons behind the way he had reacted five years prior.

Clutching the garment on her heart, she exited her room and hobbled to Adrien’s, beside herself with nervosity. What if he took her initiative the wrong way? Maybe she had been too forward, bluntly deciding that his sweater was awful and taking it upon herself to replace it? Shaking her head, Marinette let out a long sigh. No matter how Adrien would take it, they had agreed to be honest with each other, to avoid secrecy. If she had made a mistake, he would tell her, and they would move forward, together.

The second she raised her fist to knock on Adrien’s door, she heard a muffled exclamation of surprise quickly followed by a pained grunt. Worry washing over her like a tidal wave, she slammed the door open without a second thought, bursting into Adrien’s bedroom like an elephant in a china shop. “Adrien? Are you okay?”

As soon as she got a clear view of her friend, Marinette froze in front of the open door, sweater clutched against her chest, ready to fend an invisible menace.

Because in front of her stood none other than Chat Noir.

Well.

What she was _pretty sure_ was _supposed_ to be Chat Noir.

Because honestly, who else could be standing in the middle of Adrien Agreste’s bedroom at six on a Tuesday morning? Even if the man standing in front of her had lost most of his shine since the last time she had seen him.

Granted, the Chat Noir she remembered was much different. This one was wearing an obviously too tight suit, with leather covering only half of his arms and going down only to mid-calf level. The bell was resting awkwardly somewhere above his abs, where it was more than obvious that the zipper had given up any hopes of going all the way up. The gloves and the silver-tipped boots were both bursting at the seams, very visibly a few sizes too small.

The poor man landed a watery gaze on Marinette, his hands coming in front of his crotch protectively, trying to shield the sensitive area from her eyes. With a pitiful whimper, he choked out, “Claw in, please.”

A bright green flash left a beet-red Adrien in its wake, glaring at his kwami with clenched teeth. “What. The. Heck. Was. That?” he hammered, his hands still hovering over his delicate parts as if to ensure that the offending suit was really off.

Plagg merely snorted, avoiding ostensibly Tikki’s disapproving glare. “Oh, is the suit too tight? I’m sorry, you were still a kid whose balls hadn’t dropped yet the _LAST TIME YOU PUT ME ON WILLINGLY!”_

Marinette’s eyes went from Plagg to Adrien a few times, the former looking awfully pleased with himself while the latter seemed ready to choke his magical friend with the first object he would grab. The absurdity of the situation dawned on her, and she couldn’t hold her laugh any longer.

She laughed, an unbidden laugh that had Adrien staring at her blankly at first, but her hilarity was contagious and he soon joined her, tears of mirth pricking at their eyes. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand after a while, trying to regain his bearings. “Oh my. I’m sorry. I know how important this is to you, so I figure I could give it a try, but someone is being a little shit.”

“Have some respect for the gods, young man. I’m still pissed at you for locking me into that safe, you know.”

Adrien waved his upset kwami off and ran his fingers through his hair, shooting a sorry smile to Marinette. “Anyway, this is an epic fail, as you can see. Ah… I guess the timing would suck to invite you to Chloe’s birthday ball?”

“What?” The word was out Marinette’s lips before she could even think of what Adrien had just said. Chloe, ball, with him? Was he serious just now?

Seeing the shadow on his roommate’s face, Adrien instantly backpedaled, holding his hands in front of him defensively, “I just thought you’d like it! That’s an absurdly obnoxious event, with a lot of people trying to be someone else and-”

“And this made you think about me because…” Marinette asked, an eyebrow raised disbelievingly.

Adrien snorted, ignoring Plagg’s cackles. “I’m really bad at this, am I?”

“I wouldn’t bet on you passing this class,” she answered, crossing her arms in front of her with a smirk.

“Okay. Here’s the thing. I _always_ skip Chloe’s events because I can’t stand all the… the fakeness that comes with it, you know? But the guest list is always impressive, and it might be a good occasion for you to broaden your horizons, see where you wanna go from here. The dresses are always gorgeous too, and obviously, this goes without saying but this is… This is to say, it’s not… well, not a date, okay?”

Marinette giggled, the thought that he was adorable when he was desperately trying to stay afloat like that briefly crossing her mind.

“I don’t have anything to- oh!” she blurted, suddenly remembering the dress he had her measured for during their shopping trip. “You sneaky little bastard!”

A bright grin lit up his entire face, and he looked at her smugly. “Why did you think I had that ballgown made? I had hoped that maybe you would accompany me, and save me from Chloe’s nagging this year.”

She sighed dramatically, but she knew fairly well that the spark in her eyes would give her away. He knew her too well to fall for her antics, but she didn’t want to give in too easily.

“And when is that ball, kitty? High heels and casts aren’t a good mix, especially when you’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng, clumsy extraordinaire.”

He smiled, that sheepish smile that made her want to give him the world and then some. “Very conveniently a few days after you get the cast off. It should be enough for you to exercise your leg a bit, I already asked. Your luck must be rubbing off on me!”

Marinette knew she would never be able to refuse him anything, not when he was staring at her with those pleading eyes, looking every single bit like the kitten he once pretended to be. So she let the smile blossoming in her heart out, her expression softening considerably.

“Alright. I’ll go with you, if only to spare you the humiliation of trying to ask someone else with that smooth talk of yours.”

He playfully nudged her on the shoulder, his eyes falling on the fabric she still held on her heart. “Hey, what’s this? Is it new?”

Marinette suddenly felt her nerves coming back with a vengeance and weakly stammered, holding the garment out, “Yes, well, I’m… Your sweater doesn’t fit… I mean… I thought this would be better… So I kinda went and I bought you a gift? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, and-”

How he managed to make words out of what she had just said, she could never tell, but he beamed at her, practically ripping the sweater out of her hands. He looked at it with the trained eye of someone who had spent half of his life among haute-couture designers and gave an appreciative nod as his fingers ran across the collar, assessing the quality of the fabric. Grinning from ear to ear just like a child on Christmas morning, he quickly pulled it over his pajamas, striking a silly pose for her.

“How do I look?” he asked smugly, cocking one hip aside.

She rolled her eyes playfully, relieved to see she hadn’t overstepped her bounds. “Ridiculous, but much better.”

* * *

The weeks flew by, and before she knew it, Marinette’s cast was taken off and she was sitting beside Adrien in his car, waiting anxiously for him to park the car and be thrown to the sharks attending Chloe’s birthday ball. He wasn’t blind to her nervousness, because as soon as he shut down the engine he grabbed the hands that were twisted in her lap, casting her a comforting glance.

“If you changed your mind, it’s okay. You don’t have to do this.”

His eyes found hers, and a wave of relief washed over her. She wasn’t alone in this, she could rely on her best friend. Her partner.

“I’m okay. Just nervous. What if I mess this up? What if I trip? What if I don’t fit in and embarrass you? What if Chloe doesn’t want me there and throws a fit? What if-”

Adrien’s smile grew wider as he squeezed her hands, still not doing the faintest move to exit the car. “You won’t mess up, and if you trip I’ll be there to catch you. Who cares if you don’t fit in, and you could never embarrass me. And Chloe _knows_ you’re my plus one, and she was fine with it.”

“She never liked me very much back then,” Marinette argued stubbornly, if only for the sake of buying herself a few more seconds to gather her thoughts. Their fallout was still fresh in her mind, the wounds barely healed, and the last thing she wanted was to jeopardize their blossoming relationship in any way.

The way Adrien stared at her blankly, though, completely dumbfounded, made her squirm uncomfortably under his gaze, unconsciously scooting away from him. “What? Why are you looking at me like this?”

“Do you seriously not know, Mari?”

“Not know what?”

Adrien chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “The reason Chloe kept picking on you when we were fifteen was because she had a crush on you.”

“What?” Marinette almost shrieked in the car, eyes widening in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

“Very. You made her admit certain things to herself, things she wasn’t ready to face just yet.”

Her mind was reeling, trying to process that new piece of information and make sense out of it. Without any success. “But… you said she was married now…”

He laughed again, “Chloe is bisexual, Marinette. How did that escape you? She’s been happily married to Sabrina for three or four years, I forget.”

“What? But she was so mean to her when- oh.”

Adrien nodded, the mischievous smile never leaving his lips. “Now you get it?”

Marinette smoothed the scarlet fabric of her skirt, trying to fight the blush spreading on her cheeks. It was obvious that Adrien was toying with her like a cat with a mouse, enjoying her confusion and watching the gears click in her mind. He used to tell her often, back in their superhero days, that this was a sight that he cherished and fascinated him.

Some things never changed, despite everything, and she found it oddly reassuring.

Adrien exited the car, quickly rounding it to open the door for her. She graciously accepted the offered hand, letting him lead her to the front door with assured steps. Placing his hand on the small of her back as they passed the threshold, he whispered near her ear, “By the way, you are breathtaking tonight.”

Marinette instantly turned a crimson shade close to her dress. Adrien’s voice so close to her skin sent shivers running down her spine, and she was overly conscious of the faint pressure of his fingers on her waist.

Rationally, she _knew_ she was pretty that night. Adrien had had a magnificent ballgown made for her, a satin mermaid dress in a rich shade of red enhanced by black lace on the bodice. Her back was mostly bare, and the garment flattered her petite figure. Alya had done wonders with her hair, that was falling on her shoulders into tight curls.

But _knowing_ she was pretty, and _hearing it_ from Adrien’s voice were two completely different things. Suddenly she was fifteen again, her heart caught somewhere in her throat, her palms sweaty, her entire being painfully aware of the young man walking beside her, almost sinfully handsome in his dark gray suit and scarlet red dress shirt.

Her salvation came in the most unexpected form she could ever have imagined. About halfway through the ballroom, she locked eyes with Chloe Bourgeois herself, who flashed her a radiant smile and immediately excused herself from her guest to walk toward them in long, confident strides. A beautiful young woman, with long red curls tied into a savant bun followed her, an arm lazily resting on the blonde’s waist.

“Adrien! You finally came!” Chloe said cheerfully, planting a resonating peck on each of his cheeks with a crystalline laugh. She then turned to Marinette, who almost winced as the memory of so much nasty business flooded her, but Chloe leaned in, embracing her like you would an old friend. “Marinette! You are stunning, Adrien really has great taste when it comes to clothes. That shade of red really flatters your skin tone. How are you? I heard you were in an accident, I hope you’re doing okay? You remember my precious wife, Sabrina, don’t you?”

Sabrina smiled knowingly, leaning in to greet them in turn. “Chloe, love, you’re dizzying them.” She draped a hand over the noticeable bulge under Chloe’s golden dress and added tenderly, “If you don’t keep the excitement to a reasonable level, I’m gonna have to put you on bedrest, and you know perfectly well this won’t end well for either of us.”

As Adrien laughed heartedly beside her, Marinette felt like she had just been slapped across the face, hard. At first, when he had told her about the mayor's daughter marriage, she had believed that the poor Sabrina had once again gotten reeled in Chloe's latest whim against her will. But now that she was seeing the pair interacting with her very own eyes, she had to admit that their chemistry was more than inspiring. How could this be the same Chloe she went to school with?

All evening, Marinette watched them from the corner of her eyes, in utter awe at what she was witnessing. They had obviously succeeded in building something lasting onto their friendship, made out of trust and mutual respect. Chloe was all but glued to Sabrina’s side, holding her by the waist and introducing her proudly as her “lovely better half”. Whenever the redhead wandered away from her wife, their eyes naturally locked across the room, revolving around each other like magnets. Most importantly, the blonde heir was hung onto each and every word her beloved would say, giving her her undivided attention like she was the only being that mattered to her in the building.

Seeing her old classmates so obviously in love with each other and blissfully happy, Marinette felt her insides shift uncomfortably. She could have the same thing, it was right within her reach, just waiting to be grabbed. Why was she so afraid of being happy? Another fear ran through her veins, like a poison slowly paralyzing her with fear.

Adrien had made his intentions crystal clear. He loved her, had always loved her. He probably expected the same kind of relationship from her, and sooner rather than later. What if her hesitation and her second-guessing ended up costing her her only chance at happiness?

What if she ended up losing him for good?

She couldn’t imagine a life without him, not now, not after he had filled that gigantic void Chat Noir had left when he had vanished five years prior.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, Adrien introducing her to various fashion designers, to artists, to teachers. They commented on the most gorgeous and the most horrid dresses, tasted every bouchées offered, made little chat with former classmates and colleagues. But Marinette’s heart was only half there.

The same obsessing idea kept hammering in her mind, like a maddening chant.

_You’re going to lose him._

_You're pushing him away._

_You’re going to lose him._

_You're pushing him away._

_You’re going to lose him._

How she managed to keep her thoughts to herself and not blurt them out in the middle of a conversation about the benefits of studying abroad versus local schools, she had absolutely no clue. But she did notice Adrien’s less than furtive worried glances, and the way his hand was holding her just a little bit closer when they walked back to the car.

He didn’t talk in the car, didn’t ask questions. He just squeezed her fingers in a comforting manner, and drove them home without another word. The sound of the wheels on the road and her heart pounding in her chest were the only things Marinette heard until they got home.

_You’re going to lose him._

_You're pushing him away._

_You’re going to lose him._

Adrien led her upstairs, still gently guiding her without probing. He opened their apartment door, took her shawl from her shoulders, smiled at her warmly, worry dripping from the kind, green eyes.

Marinette stared at him in silence, standing on the threshold of her bedroom. Her heart was beating furiously under the satin of the dress, and she unconsciously leaned toward him, her fingers grasping the fine fabric of his dress shirt. She faintly heard his sharp intake of breath as her eyes dropped to his lips, and tried to focus on the steady, yet strong rhythm in his chest beneath her fingers.

He was right there. Barely even a breath was separating their trembling lips, why couldn’t she muster the courage to lean just a little bit further, to press her lips against his and take a leap of faith?

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt Adrien’s lips moving near hers, whispering hoarsely, “Why are you doing this?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, Marinette jolted back, painfully aware of his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and of her hand buried in the blond mane.

“What?”

He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut. “You’re terrified, Marinette. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I’m- I’m not-” she managed to blurt out half-heartedly.

“You’re shaking like a leaf and your breathing is shallow at best. You don’t have to do this. Not like this.”

His voice was calm, even, and it only managed to break Marinette’s heart further. A chill ran down her spine, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He held her tight, placing a feather-like kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, Marinette. Not today, not tomorrow. As long as you’ll want this stray cat beside you, that’s where I’ll stay.”

“But-” she tried to object weakly, but the knot in her throat made it hard to speak. Adrien pulled away from her a little, and looked into her eyes.

“As long as you let me be a part of your life, Mari, I’ll be happy. I thought I’d never see you again, let alone be your friend again. I’ll… I’m okay with the way things are right now, okay? You don’t have to push yourself for my sake. That’s… that’s not how I want it to be.”

She only managed to nod in answer, and with a parting hug retreated to the privacy of her bedroom. Tikki gently patted her charge on the cheek while she wiped the makeup off her face, helping her remove all the hairpins. Marinette changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed, her kwami instantly nuzzling into her neck comfortingly.

* * *

Later that night, when Adrien got up to get a glass of water and checked on his friend before going back to bed, he found her sound asleep, holding her Chat Noir plush to her heart.


	20. Back Then

The following Monday was excruciatingly long for Adrien. 

Years of Plagg’s bad luck seemingly caught back with him all at once. He had woken up late and had left in a hurry, skipping breakfast and his mandatory morning coffee. Marinette had been nowhere to be found when he had made his crazy dash through the front door. His inquiry text squeezed in between unlocking his classroom door and greeting his students had been answered by a short “Don’t worry. See you tonight!” which was extremely unlike Marinette, who always liked to keep him up-to-date about her whereabouts.

“Ok. Text me if you need anything,” he simply answered, uneasy about prying into her newfound freedom since getting her cast off, figuring she was simply busy and would text him later.

But as the day dragged on and on, no such messages arrived. 

Then one of his students argued and insisted for the better part of his lunch hour to get a fully-deserved failing grade changed. This, of course, prevented him from getting any work done, resulting in him all but inhaling his lunch in between classes.

He had spilled his water bottle on his desk in the middle of his lesson next, ruining his lesson plan and his last threads of patience. Hence why, about an hour later, when one of his best students made a ridiculous mistake, instead of laughing it off like he usually did, he harshly told him to revise his basics and come back once he’d understand where he had gone wrong.

And Marinette’s texts were abnormally vague, side-stepping questions about what she was doing, every time turning the conversation back to him. Sure, it was nice to vent about his horrible day, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trying to hide what she was actually doing and for some reason it kept bugging him through the day.

When the bell finally rang, the young man could hardly blame the collective sigh of relief that he heard from his class. He himself had been glancing at the clock more often than he’d care to admit with a painful longing for sweet release. A few times he had even looked in his bag, convinced that Plagg had somehow tagged along, really cursing him with his inherent bad luck through this awful day. Adrien sent his students home as soon as he could and grabbed his keys in the first drawer of his desk while shooting a quick text to Marinette to let her know he was on his way. The answer was as short and disheartening as the others. “Ok! Hurry home, I have a surprise!”

The first thing Adrien saw when he, at last, set foot into their apartment, his mood more sullen than it had been in a very long time, was also the last thing he’d expected. Softly smiling to herself, Marinette was standing beside their dining table, rearranging the silverware somewhat nervously. The mouthwatering aroma of the meal she had cooked teased his nose, and he could tell she had put a lot of effort into the presentation, but his gaze wandered away from the food and zeroed on his favorite person in the world. She was dressed nicer than usual, wearing a knee-length black dress that was hugging her waist, and she had tied her long hair into a messy but classy bun. She usually went around barefooted in the apartment, but was currently wearing ballet flats. She was gorgeous, stunning even, but a tad overdressed for a quiet meal at home.

Her entire face lit up when he entered the room, and she greeted him with a shy wave. Anxiety was oozing out of her every pore, and it did nothing to calm his wild imagination going haywire with scenarios all worst than the last. Had she met someone? Was she leaving? Had she found out she had an incurable disease and was trying to soften the blow with a homemade meal?

“Welcome home Adrien! How was your day?” 

Startled out of his grim train of thoughts by her soft voice, he asked in an unsure tone, “What’s the occasion?”

“I quit my job.” Marinette smiled sheepishly and looked at him from under her lashes, “I’m sorry I was quiet for most of the day. I just didn’t want to let anything slip before everything was settled.”

“You… you quit?” Adrien stammered, “You quit  _ Ever After _ ? But why?”

Marinette had a little smile as she looked up at Adrien again, obviously searching for something into his eyes. “I’m going back to school.” 

“Wait, what? Where?”

“Don’t worry about rent, I’m more than able to pay my share,” she said so quickly Adrien got worried she would trip over her own tongue. “I have plans, I’ll find some part-time job, maybe I can even work something out with Rose. Of course, if you want me out I’ll find somewhere else to live but I had hoped we could stay roommates for a little while more, and I really should’ve talked this through with you instead of going behind your back, I just messed things up a lot but-”

“Mari. Breathe,” Adrien gently coaxed her, putting a welcome end to her long string of nonsense. Marinette blushed and averted her gaze from his.

Adrien stared at her for a few seconds, bemused by the information she had just revealed to him. “Mari… What… What are you trying to tell me?”

She marked a pause, visibly trying to put her thoughts into coherent words. When she spoke again, her voice was steady, strong. “ESMOD. I’ve been filling forms for a few weeks and got the green light to re-enroll into ESMOD today. I had been admitted… before everything went south, with a full scholarship. After five years, I more than likely lost the scholarship, but I know I can make it if I work on weekends and cut on expenses. Admissions were due a month ago, but the dean is a regular at the bakery and agreed to extend the date for me. I have to do absolutely fantastic on the submission to get in, and it's been a lot of hard work, but I'm actually excited about it, and if I don't get in right away, I can still try again and make my submission even better next semester.”

Adrien felt his heart do a few backflips in his chest. He knew she was taking a huge leap of faith, diving back into fashion after years of avoiding it like the plague. On impulse, because he absolutely adored her and couldn’t be happier that she was moving forward with her life, he pulled her into a tight hug and buried his nose in her hair. “You have no idea how proud of you I am right now.”

She hugged him back, and for a moment, Adrien allowed himself to hope that this was the first step for them toward a healthy and strong relationship, maybe even toward winning back her heart.

How long they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, he couldn’t tell, but they were startled apart by the doorbell suddenly echoing in the apartment, followed closely by the front door opening.

“We come bearing offerings!” Alya’s cheerful voice announced as she walked into the apartment, Nino on her heels, holding up two bottles of wine. “I was promised exceptional news, so they better be worth it!”

Marinette laughed, hugging her best friend, and Adrien could swear he had seen the faintest hint of red on her cheeks.

News was shared, appropriate squeals of joy were made, and they ate together in a happy atmosphere. Nino and Alya left long after dinner, the sound of their laughter still resonating in Adrien’s ears as he began to clean the remnants of their nice evening.

“You’re wrong, you know?” he said quietly as he placed the dirty glasses in the dishwasher.

She looked up at him with curious eyes, stopping mid-motion with the empty plates in her hands. “What do you mean? About what?”

“Your scholarship. It isn’t lost.”

Marinette handed him the plates and crossed her arms in front of her, looking at him pointedly. “Adrien Agreste. What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything,” he said with a smirk. He knew she wouldn’t like what he was about to say, but he now knew he had taken the right decision all those years before. Finally, one thing he hadn’t messed up. “Your scholarship was sponsored by my father’s company. When he was imprisoned, its management fell back on me. Hence why it’s still yours. I haven’t done anything with it, so it’s still waiting for you.”

“Adrien!” she squealed inelegantly, tearing a low chuckle from him. “I can’t accept more money from you! You have done so much for me already, this is getting ridicu-”

“This scholarship was attributed to you solely based on your skills, Marinette. I had absolutely no say on the matter. Actually, I had no idea you had gotten one of those before a lawyer shoved your folder under my nose and asked me what he should do with the money. I told him to do nothing. It’s yours. You won it fair and square.”

“But-”

“Don’t ‘but’ me. This might be the only good thing my father did in the last decade. I am the reason you didn’t claim it five years ago. Please use it, or else that money will rot in some account in your name forever.”

Adrien finally forced himself to look at her, to take her reaction into account. What he hadn’t expected to find was Marinette staring at him dumbfounded, her beautiful blue eyes full of unshed tears.

“But…. why?” she whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear her. “Why would you do such a thing? You… you didn’t know Marinette was Ladybug back then.”

Adrien felt his heart constrict almost painfully in his chest. Did she really think she mattered that little to him? That he only ever cared for the spandex-wearing heroine?

He closed the dishwasher carefully and walked to Marinette, holding her hands into his. “Because you were my friend. Because you were hurt, distraught, and because I hoped, deep within my heart, that someday you’d heal. And I feared that when that day would come, you would have regrets. So I simply held on that promise my father made to you, hoping that I would be able to help you someday, to be as good a friend to you than you had been to me all those years.”

Now, tears were rolling freely down Marinette’s cheeks, but she was smiling. Feeling empowered by that little promising curve in her lips, Adrien went on, “You are the first person that ever stood up to me instead of licking my shoes to gain my father’s favors. You were amazing in high school, that creative, strong, stubborn, righteous and cute girl with her pigtails. You always were my favorite person beside Nino.”

Plagg snickered from the countertop where he had been munching on some leftover pizza. “You wouldn’t believe how much he would talk about you.  _ “Marinette said that, Marinette did this, Marinette did this amazing drawing, have you seen how cute Marinette was today?”  _ It was sickening.”

“But…” Marinette said weakly, “you were in love with Ladybug, weren’t you?”

Adrien chuckled, lifting her chin so she would look at him. “Being in love with her didn’t make me blind. Even I could see how awesome you were, and still are, and how you would always stand up for your peers, no matter what.”

“And yet you didn’t know I had that ginormous crush on you,” she said quietly, and for a second he thought he had heard her wrong.

“Wait, what did you say just now?” he finally choked out, frantically searching her eyes. He wanted, he needed to know if his ears had deceived him.

She smiled at him, a wet smile tainted by her tears. “That day under the rain. You handed me your umbrella and apologized for Chloe’s behaviour. That’s the day I fell in love with you.”

“Her bedroom walls were covered with your pictures,” Tikki piped in from her cookie tower, looking all pleased with herself while Plagg was chuckling madly on his dry pizza crust. “You should have seen it, Adrien, it was almost a shrine to you.”

Adrien stared at her for a moment, at a complete loss for words. Ultimately, he managed to say weakly, “You… you really fell for me back then? Plain, old, well-groomed and boring Adrien?”

She smiled, that smile of hers that always made his insides melt. “No, I fell for the kind, wearing-his-heart-on-his-sleeve Adrien that looked past my tendency to talk before I think and to trip over thin air.”

Adrien stayed silent for a bit, looking at her just like he was searching for answers she couldn’t give him. After a while, he took two glasses out of the cupboard and poured them glasses of wine, holding out one to her with a sly smile.

“I have news of my own,” he said softly. “I found a therapist today.”

Marinette stilled in front of him, her glass halfway to her lips. She looked at him and asked quietly, “And?”

“She majored in childhood traumatisms and self-esteem issues. She seemed confident she would be able to help me. Actually, she was a recommendation from your therapist.”

“You talked to Dr. Ellis?” Marinette asked, taken aback.

Adrien smiled shyly, hoping he hadn’t been overstepping his boundaries by reaching to Marinette’s psychologist. “I did. She gave me Dr. Postupaylo’s business card, and I think we are going to hit it off.”

Marinette smiled again, a warm, welcoming smile, and Adrien suddenly felt like he could take on the whole world. She held her glass high, a gesture all too familiar to Adrien. “Let’s make a toast, then.”

He grinned, holding his own glass up in answer. “A toast to what?”

“Our new lives. I’m going back to school, you’re going to therapy. Let’s make a new beginning right now, Adrien. Let’s start our lives all over again.”

His heart stilled in his chest, and he looked at that incredible woman, that woman that held his life into her palm without realizing it. Smiling, he simply said, “Anything that makes you happy, my lady.”


	21. Promising Student

Seasons passed and months went by, and Marinette soon found herself not knowing how she would’ve survived her school years without Adrien faithfully remaining by her side. There was no price tag on the kind of unwavering support he gave her. All those countless study sessions that held their living room hostage of textbooks and energy drinks. All those sleepless nights where Adrien stayed awake with her so he could help her in any way he could, even if all he could do was to quietly sit there and support her in spirit or held her close as she cried about another project that refused to cooperate. All those tears he wiped from her cheeks and all the cookies he brought her to make her days just a little bit brighter. All the names and types of skirts, collars and stitches he helped her learn, the multitude of tiny things he did for her on a daily basis without even realizing it, and even his sole constant presence by her side.

That was what had held her afloat all of this time, had helped her survive through the worst downs and had made her soar higher through the ups. 

As she was about to enter her fourth semester, Marinette couldn’t imagine her life any other way anymore. Adrien was a huge chunk of her life, the shoulder she could lean on through thick and thin, and if she was ESMOD’s most promising student of her year, it was a lot thanks to his constant support and his invaluable help.

Through the last two years, Marinette had slowly came out of her shell. She was laughing often again, had taken a liking into teasing mercilessly her roommate. She had taken up jogging, loving the freeing feeling she got whenever she ran down Paris’s streets. Overall, she felt more confident, more in control of her life. 

After years of stubborn silence, she opened back up to her parents, talking about school with them, the friends she made on campus, her hopes and her successes and failures. It was like a breath of fresh air to feel close to them again, to be able to be honest with them at last. Marinette started stopping by the bakery every Tuesday night to have dinner with her parents, which was the most she’d seen them ever since she had moved out. Somewhere in her second semester, Adrien was forcefully dragged to attend by a very convincing Sabine Cheng, and now, unless there was an emergency, he was present at every Tuesday dinner. “You are a part of the family now,” Tom often laughed as he hugged the living daylight of the blushing and stammering man.

One of her mother’s new favorite hobbies was fussing over Adrien ( _ “A grown man needs a little meat on their bones, Adrien! Here, eat seconds.” “Here’s some tea for that nasty cold, son.” “Tom and I saw this ‘Best teacher’ mug and thought about you, I hope you don’t mind.” _ ) and Marinette knew that her roommate secretly loved it to pieces. It indeed was the closest thing to a family he ever had since his mother’s death, and she would never dare hope to take it away from him. 

Alya and Nino were another constant in their new daily life. The pair stopped by the apartment every Friday night without fail, seldom leaving until the wee hours of the morning. Their living room had witnessed countless movie nights, cutthroat Monopoly or Scrabble games, endless Mecha Strike and Mario Kart tournaments, long and heartfelt conversations about their futures, their hopes and their dreams, even the occasional slumber party

Marinette and Alya were closer than ever, going out for coffees a few times a week, shopping for fabric or hunting for scoops together, supporting each other in their respective fields. After a few weeks of being cold as ice toward Adrien after learning his alleged drunken harsh words had been the given cause of her best friend’s depression, Alya warmed up to him again when she witnessed firsthand how much he was being a good friend to Marinette, going as far as to drop lunches to her on campus whenever she failed to come home for dinner.

Refusing to let an old friend down when she was trying to get her hands back on the wheel of her life, Rose had worked up a system that allowed Marinette to cram in as many hours as she could during down times at school, but spread her paychecks evenly through the following school year. That way, even if she couldn’t clock in for a few weeks because things got hectic at ESMOD, it didn’t reflect that much either on her workload at  _ Ever After _ or on her tight budget. Even with Gabriel’s scholarship covering her tuition fees, there wasn’t too much room left for extra expenses.

Marinette smiled softly to herself as she took her messenger bag off her shoulder and slid on the bench behind her desk. If she was completely honest with herself, she loved living with Adrien. Their evenings were soothing, a peaceful haven that kept her going. Adrien often graded papers or prepared his lesson plans at the dining table instead of retreating to his office like he used to, while Marinette lay down on the floor of the living room, homework and half-completed projects scattered around her. Some nights they would work in comfortable silence, only the scratching of their pens on the paper or the keys of their keyboards filling the apartment. Other nights, they would make small chat, talking about their days or reminiscing their superhero feats of strength.

As she took her textbooks out of her bag, a coffee suddenly appeared on her desk. She lifted her eyes from her books, knowing already who was standing in front of her. Sure enough, Mark was looking at her with a warm smile, holding a cup of his own. 

“Good morning, Marinette!”

Marinette smiled at him. Her first year into ESMOD had been somewhat lonely, focusing solely on proving herself and getting back into student mode. This had left very little free time for her friends, let alone to make new ones. Mark, however, had approached her at the end of the third semester, shyly looking for a partner on a project, and he had proved himself to be a real sweetheart. He was constantly complimenting her, bringing her a coffee at every early morning class, adding a pastry from her parents’ bakery every now and then. She had yet to introduce him to her friends out of ESMOD, only because in between her work at  _ Ever After,  _ her workload at school and the time she religiously spent with Alya, Nino and her parents, free time was a luxury she didn’t have on her hands. She was pretty sure he would get along quite nicely with Adrien should they finally meet someday, and Nino loved everybody anyway.

Alya, on the other hand, was another story.

Of course, Marinette had excitedly talked about Mark to her best friend. And, of course, she had gushed about his thoughtfulness, almost on Adrien’s level. She had fully expected Alya to gush along with her, and be glad for her that she had found another friend to rely on. However, surprisingly, Alya had frowned and had sipped on her coffee pensively. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Mari, but don’t you think that Mark guy is a little bit … too friendly?” she had asked, taking Marinette aback.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. He’s like, too nice, you know?”

Marinette had shrugged, looking at her coffee cup intently. “I don’t think so. He’s just a really sweet guy. Adrien does nice things for me all the time and it doesn’t bug you.”

Alya had had a dry chuckle, “Because Adrien is the nicest guy I know, and the fact that he’s madly in love with you kinda explains his sweetness.”

Hearing those words from her best friend had prompted Marinette to discover that spewing coffee through your nose was a really uncomfortable thing to do. “Not that again?” she had squeaked out, “I thought you wouldn’t bug me with this anymore?”

“Marinette, please. Anyone with a functioning brain that has seen you guys interacting in the last two years knows that you two are crazy about each other. And wonders what the heck you are waiting for to make things official.” 

She had groaned, answering Adrien’s lame pun on her phone with a frowning emoji. “Stop that, Alya. Adrien and I are perfectly happy the way things are. And it’s no one’s business but ours.”

Marinette shuddered at the unpleasant memory and willed herself to smile back at Mark. “I was just thinking about how far we made it. I’m really proud of everything I have accomplished so far.”

“As you should be,” Mark grinned, sitting beside her. “You are going to put Paris’s greatest designers to shame once you get out there, Marinette.”

She laughed as the teacher entered the classroom, and playfully nudged him on the shoulder. “We’ll be fighting for that sweet coveted spot at the top, then, cause you are an amazing designer yourself.”

He looked away from her, his chest somewhat puffed out, “Oh … please, I don’t even hold a candle to you.”

Their teacher’s voice beginning the lesson interrupted the witty retort Marinette was about to give him. 

She giggled quietly as she shook her head and leaned back into her chair, focusing on her teacher’s words.

* * *

Later that day, when the bell finally rang and she gathered her things, Mark approached her again, his usual warm and kind smile spread on his lips. “Hey Mari, wanna team up for that costume design big project? You could come over tonight, that way we could get a headstart.”

Sheepishly, Marinette sighed as she shook her head, “Sorry, Mark, I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Tuesdays are family dinner night, and Mama is cooking my favorite tonight. We could always meet up at the library tomorrow at lunch?”

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, checking his phone quickly, “Works for me, I’m free as a bird. I’ll see you tomorrow then, have a nice evening, Mari.”

Before she could reply, Marinette’s phone chimed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see Adrien’s contact picture displayed on the digital screen.

_ [Adrien] Running late, messy classroom again. Meet me at school? Looking forward to Sabine’s famous dumplings! _

She tried to fight the smile that was threatening to blossom on her face, knowing very well how much Adrien hated having to clean up after his students when experiments went wrong. She shot him a quick reply, telling him she was just leaving campus.

In a teasing tone, Mark playfully nudged her, “Mama’s wondering about her little girl’s whereabouts?”

“Not quite,” Marinette answered, tucking her phone back in her jeans. “She would have to learn how to text for that. She’s not really tech savvy, my roommate has to handle all the electronic issues at the bakery.”

“That bad?” Mark wondered out loud as they walked out of the classroom together.

“Yep,” Marinette nodded, “he has to set the clock back on the microwave every time they lose power. He bought her a music player for the bakery last Christmas, and she’s barely able to power it on, let alone select any song on it.”

Surprised, Mark looked at her, “He?”

“Mmh?” she asked absentmindedly, before realizing. “Oh, yeah. My roommate’s name is Adrien. He’s a great guy, you two would get along.”

Mark laughed,  “Alright then. Have fun with your family, Marinette.”

With a wave, he was gone, and Marinette went her own way toward Adrien’s school. She located his classroom easily, having been there a few times a month in the last two years, and found him on all fours scrubbing some goo from the floor and quietly cursing under his breath. 

“What happened?” she laughed.

He sat back on his heels, glaring at her with a murderous stare. “Students too dumb to follow numbered instructions in the right order. Mme Meunier is going to kill me if she has to clean this mess up.”

“She won’t,” Marinette said as she sat gingerly on his desk, remnants of her laugh in her voice. “She adores you because you remind her of her grandson.”

Adrien frowned, and she thought that he oddly looked like a child in that moment, kneeling on the classroom floor in his black slacks and the sweater she had bought him two years prior, a deep scowl on his face. “And how would you know that?”

Marinette smiled, watching him resume scrubbing the unknown goo. “Because she told me last month when I came to drop your phone off. When I asked if you were in the teacher’s cafeteria, she answered, and I quote, ‘ _ M. Agreste? That wonderful young man is in his classroom, Mlle. He’s a fine young man, just as fine as my dear Simon.’  _ Now that I think of it, maybe she was talking about her dog?”

“Hey!” Adrien playfully shot back, but the way his shoulders were shaking betrayed his laughter as he scrubbed.

Once his classroom’s floor was finally goo-free, Adrien put his students’ assignments in his briefcase and grabbed his car keys, tossing them to Marinette. “Wanna drive tonight, princess?”

Grinning, she squealed softly, “Really? I graduated from empty parking lots?”

Adrien laughed, following her bouncy steps to the parking lot. “Took you long enough. Don’t worry, I told Sabine not to expect us before tomorrow night, Mlle I-Stall-The-Car-Every-Time-It-Stops.”

“Not my fault you're a weirdo that owns a stick shift in central Paris.”

Surprisingly enough, after much more playful banter and much laughter, Marinette managed to park Adrien’s sedan in front of the bakery about half an hour later, under Tom’s appreciative gaze. A firm pat on Adrien’s back and a few jabs at his Marinette’s parking skills later, they all sat at the family table to enjoy Sabine’s cooking with hearty laughs and affectionate smiles.

Much later that night, once she and Adrien got back from the bakery and were watching old reruns of  _ How I Met Your Mother  _ cuddled against each other on the couch, Marinette found herself staring at his profile over her shoulder. He was completely focused on Ted and Lily’s shenanigans, unaware of his roommate extensive observation. He hadn’t shaved that morning, leaving a light stubble on his cheeks and chin, and he was wearing his glasses due to the late hour. His hair had lost the battle against Tom Dupain’s notorious ruffles, sticking in every direction. She was the only one who ever got to see Adrien this relaxed, watching old TV shows in worn-out jogging pants, and she felt her heart swell with affection in her chest.

There was no existing words to describe how much he meant to her, how much she was happy the way things currently were in her life. Adrien was making great progress in therapy, as was she, she was finding herself again into fashion, she was making new friends, and she had the best of friends she could ever wish for right there whenever she needed him.

Resting her head in the familiar spot above his collarbone, Marinette sighed contentedly and dearly hoped nothing would ever change. He tightened his grip on her ever so lightly, probably out of instinct, but right this second, she felt home.


	22. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: second half of the chapter might be upsetting to some people. Read at your own risks.

Adrien leaned back against his chair, removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. A quick glance in the living room confirmed that once again, Marinette had fallen asleep on the floor, her cheek lying on one of her textbooks. That happened often lately, as she was working herself to the bone with finals coming up. They still had a few weeks to go, and then they would be able to enjoy a well-deserved summer break together.

As he looked at her sleeping peacefully, Adrien felt his heart swell with affection in his chest. She had tied her hair in a loose braid when she had gotten out of the shower, and her tank top had hiked up a little, baring a little patch of skin. She looked vulnerable in her slumber, all her walls down, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to hold her and fall asleep with her.

He shook his head. It was no use. He was as tired as she was, trying to grade papers in this state of mind wouldn’t end well. Instead, he removed his glasses and pushed them on the desk, and stood up slowly. Stretching his limbs stiff by hours of marking, Adrien looked around him with a fond smile.

The young man was fully aware that Marinette was still genuinely expecting him to grow tired of waiting on her without even knowing if his patience would be rewarded someday. She still feared he would abandon her, or that his heart would find love she wasn’t ready to give yet elsewhere. But he had every intention to stay by her side for as long as she’d have him, and just how she’d have him.

He liked this life, this little nest they had created for themselves.

After all, there was much worse fate than getting to share your daily life with the woman you love deeply, have her by your side through ups and downs, getting to take care of her whenever she needs it. And if it was all Adrien was ever going to get out of his relationship with her, he was more than happy to oblige.

Their apartment had become his favourite place in the world. It was where he could see Marinette cook Sunday’s breakfast in her pajamas, dancing to silly songs on the radio. It was where he came back to home-cooked meals after a long day, the place they made a point to fill with laughter as often as possible. It was where he could love her as much as she was comfortable with, far from prying and judging eyes.

It was _home._

Adrien walked up to his roommate, carefully avoiding stepping on the various half-finished projects scattered around her. She barely even stirred when he picked her up, instead nuzzling herself into her chest and mumbling contentedly, “Thank you, Chaton.”

He carried her to her room, like he had done countless times and tucked her in, smiling softly as she drifted back to a deep slumber.

He didn’t care if he never got to be called her boyfriend, or start a family with her, despite how wonderful that would be. He cared even less if they never got past those late evening cuddles, if all he ever got from her was hugs and kisses on the cheek.

He loved her, and he never wanted to be without her again.

For him, it was more than good enough a reason to protect the safe haven they had built together.

* * *

Adrien closed the apartment door behind him with a soft click, completely exhausted after a long day of teaching. He was sore from standing all day, his throat was dry from giving all those lessons, and he was desperately looking forward to Marinette’s lovely cooking. Mouth watering at the thought of the delicious meal she was sure to have cooked for them, he dropped his briefcase on the ground and hung his keys on his hook, letting out a long and relieved sigh.

Home at last.

Oddly enough, when he looked up to the kitchen, he suddenly felt extremely uneasy, a powerful feeling of wrongness weighing heavily in his stomach.

The apartment was dark and quiet. _Eerily_ dark and quiet.

Marinette should have been home for more than an hour yet, and usually it was almost impossible to shut Plagg and Tikki up when they were on their own. It was one of the things Adrien loved most of coming back home: stepping into a lively and happy place, where he finally belonged.

“Marinette?” he called out hesitantly. Her keys were there, her jacket was draped over the back of the armchair. He could see her messenger bag lying on the kitchen table, some textbook open beside it. She clearly had come home some time during the day.

“Princess? Are you home yet?” he asked again, the stifling sensation of uneasiness growing on him.

Something was wrong.

Trying desperately to calm his jittery nerves, Adrien attempted to reason with himself. She was probably only taking a nap, finals were taking quite a toll on her. And the kwamis had probably fallen asleep in some cranny or nook, no reason to worry. None at all.

The second he thought he would manage to quell the worry bubbling within him, a pitiful whimper followed by a muffled sob coming from the bedrooms reached his ears, making a shiver run down his spine.

“Mari?” he called out again, rushing toward the horrifying sound, heart pounding madly in his chest.

Her bedroom door was cracked open, something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Marinette never left her bedroom door open when she was trying to nap. She always said that the littlest light disturbed her sleep, rendering it useless.

Gulping painfully, Adrien pushed her bedroom door open.

And barely suppressed a scream.

Marinette was lying on her back over the blankets of her bed, wearing little more than a black lace nightgown. The milky skin of her arms and legs was completely offered to him, seeing as her ankles and wrists were bound to the bedposts with thick hemp rope. Her hair was damp with sweat, and a cloth had been stuffed into her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

A copper smell assaulted his nose, and his eyes widened when he saw the growing dark circle beneath her. Marinette twitched a little in her bounds and whimpered again, a sound that shot raw pain through Adrien’s heart.

Snapping out of his shocked state, he rushed toward her, his hands desperately fumbling with the knot tying her right wrist. “Mari, princess? What happened? Who did that to you?”

She lifted panicked eyes past him, a muffled scream echoing in the room. Following her terrified gaze, Adrien saw a dark figure step forward from the heavy shadows obscuring the corner of her room.

A tall, lean man, with swept back sandy-blond hair. His entire demeanour was stern, severe, and his cruel gray eyes were dead set on Adrien, glaring at him with a definite spark of madness.

Instantly recognizing the man dressed in a gray prison uniform, the young man gasped, his hands stilling on the knot.

“F … Father?”

But when the shock was replaced by understanding, his mind connecting the obvious dots, all that was left within Adrien was fury. Marinette was terrorized, wounded, and his monster of a father was staring at him with pure hatred like _he_ had committed some kind of horrible crime.

“What have you done to her?” he snarled through clenched teeth.

Gabriel laughed, a laugh that seemed surreal. “What’s the matter, Adrien? Don’t you like my little gift?”

“How the fuck did you even escape?” Adrien all but barked, fury washing over him like a tidal wave. “How dare you step foot into my home and hurt the woman I love? What the hell are you doing here?”

The look his father landed on him sent shivers up Adrien’s spine. An evil grin stretched the insane man’s thin lips. “I’m going to take everything you hold dear away. I will make you feel the pain you selfishly put me through, Adrien.”

His heart threatening to burst out of his chest, Adrien abandoned the rope tying Marinette to the bed and surged forward, one only obsessing idea in mind. He _had_ to stop Gabriel. He _had_ to protect Marinette no matter the cost.

“You touch her again, you sick monster, and I swear I will Cataclysm you without a second thought,” he growled, his entire being trembling.

One hand carefully hidden behind his back, Gabriel chuckled dryly, “You won’t. How could you? You’re no longer Chat Noir. You failed your ridiculous lady once, and you’re going to fail her again. You’re a failure, Adrien. A complete and useless failure.”

Eyes wide and stomach feeling like it was suddenly full of lead, Adrien looked down to his right hand, only to find it completely bare.

“Missing something?” Gabriel asked, holding up a familiar silver ring. “Don’t worry, son, I’m going to take really good care of it.”

A horrifying click resonated in the bedroom when Adrien blinked, opening his eyes only to see a pistol in his father’s hand, pointed at Marinette’s temple. All air was punched away from his lungs, and his chest crumbled at the terrifying scene playing out in front of him.

Marinette’s bluebell eyes were wide with terror, and hot tears were streaming down her face as she choked on her muffled sobs. The cold metal of the pistol was pressed on the side of her head, and her fingers were curled around the rope bounding her to the bed.

Gabriel grinned, sickening pride seeping from every single of his pore. “It’s time to say goodbye, son.” His finger pressed the trigger, so slowly Adrien almost felt like time had stopped for a second.

He lunged forward in a desperate attempt to save his beloved from her impending doom, his choked shout drowned out by the loud bang of the gun vibrating across the entire apartment.

Marinette’s body went limp, the dark circle beneath her expanding at a revolting pace.

His knees gave up under him, and he dropped beside the bed, clutching Marinette’s lifeless body to his chest. Hot tears spilled on his cheeks, and he barked, “How could you? How could you take her away from me?”

But the room was empty.

Only him remained, with Marinette’s head lulling inertly into the crook of his neck. Violent sobs and screams escaped him, and he buried his nose into the mane of dark hair, holding her as close to him as he could.

He had failed her.

He had failed to protect her. Saving her from his father’s claws a decade ago had been in vain, seeing as it only had brought her years of pain and sorrow instead of the happy, peaceful life he had wished for her.

A long and strangled scream tore from Adrien’s lips, and the only thing still tethering him to sanity was the feeling of comforting fingers raking through his hair, and a familiar voice whispering soothing words to him.

“Shh…” the voice hushed softly, one of their arms holding his head in their lap. “It’s okay, Adrien, I’m here. I’m right here mon Chaton, I’m here.”

He jolted awake in his bed, cold sweat dripping down his back. Panting uncontrollably, it took him a full minute to understand that the scream that had startled him awake was his own. His mind was hazy and foggy, but he faintly noticed the familiar touch on his hair, the familiar voice lulling him into a welcome sense of safety.

Hot tears spilled on his cheek as images of the nightmare came back to him in a rush, making air choke in his throat.

“You’ve been doing so good, Adrien,” Marinette said softly, still stroking his hair tenderly. “The nightmares are weeks apart now.”

Despite himself, unable to cope with the horrifying nightmare he had just experienced, Adrien nuzzled closer to her, resting his head in the crook of her neck. “Don’t ever leave me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Chaton,” she said, affection evident in her voice. “You’d find me in a heartbeat. You’re good now?”

The very idea of Marinette leaving his bed, now he knew she was alive and well, shook him to the very core, and without thinking he wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her desperately.

“Stay. Please. I beg you.”

She smiled at him in the darkness of his room, a kind, fond smile that managed to melt the fear paralyzing him a little.

“Of course, Adrien,” Marinette said before lying down beside him.

There was no further nightmares that night.


	23. Safe

Marinette barely slept a wink that night.

After Adrien’s anguished scream had startled her out of sleep, she had rushed to his room, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. The nightmare had been sparse lately, becoming days and then weeks apart.

But even after two years of dealing with her friend’s night terrors, Marinette didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing him thrashing around desperately in his bed, his skin covered in cold sweat. Neither would his hopeless cries of agony stop piercing her heart.

That night had been no exception. When she had almost broken her neck running into his bedroom and tripping on her feet in her rush, he was curled up in a violently shaking ball, hot tears streaming down his face. His voice was broken, hoarse, as he kept repeating her name over and over again, and Marinette felt her heart break a little bit further. She hated that he cared about her enough to put him in such a state, hated that she played a role into those horrible images haunting him.

She climbed into his bed as fast as if the floor had been on fire, and gently slipped her knees under his head, coaxing him into her lap as softly as she could. “Shh…” she hushed tenderly as she stroked the golden strands, “It’s okay, Adrien, I’m here. I’m right here, mon Chaton, I’m here.”

Adrien’s eyes snapped open as soon as she spoke, green swimming in an ocean of tears. He looked every bit out of focus, his gaze searching the room frantically for a menace that existed only within the realm of his dreams. His breathing was haggard and his hand wrapped around Marinette’s wrist in a deathly grip, as if he was trying to tether himself to reality.

She kept caressing his head despite how hard he was holding her arm. She knew he didn’t realize he was hurting her ever so lightly, knew it was only a result of the violent nightmare that had just seized him. A desperate sob spilled from his lips when he finally locked eyes with her, connecting back with reality at last. His hold instantly loosened and his head pressed on her lap, tears rolling down his face anew. “You’ve been doing so good, Adrien,” Marinette said softly, still stroking his hair tenderly. “The nightmares are weeks apart now.”

Adrien nuzzled closer to her, resting his head in the crook of her neck. He was still shaking uncontrollably as she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on top of his. “Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered, so much fear in his voice that Marinette felt her heart constrict painfully in her chest.

How could she? How could she possibly abandon the man she loved more than anything, the best friend she had ever had? The idea that he could even envision it was heartbreaking on its own. “I wouldn’t dare, Chaton,” she said, unable to hide how shaken she felt from him. “You’d find me in a heartbeat. You’re good now?”

His grip on her tightened, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist and his shoulders trembling under her fingers.

“Stay. Please. I beg you,” he choked out, his voice hoarse from the screams and the sobs.

Marinette smiled at him despite the darkness of his bedroom. Seeing him like this, vulnerable, fragile, it made her despise every single person who had ever hurt him, who had used his kindness as a weapon against him, who had denied love and care to a child that hadn’t asked to be born.

And she hated herself.

For being hesitant still, for relishing into the comfortable _status quo_ they had established, for preferring the safety of their friendship to the exhilarating but dangerous uncharted territory of a romantic relationship as it was traditionally referred to.

For refusing to give him the love he deserved, for refusing to let her heart lead the way and help him tend to his own wounds.

So she hid the tears welling up in her eyes, before saying softly, “Of course, Adrien,” and lay down beside him, letting him pull her close to his chest and bury his nose in her hair. There, in the warm embrace of his arms, her ear pressed to his madly beating heart, Marinette tried, and failed, to calm herself down and just be there for him.

His erratic breathing calmed down and finally deepened about an hour later, indicating that he had drifted back to a much-needed sleep.

She, on the other hand, had no such luck.

That nightmare had been by far the worse he had had in months, and the way he had clung to her was repeating over and over in her mind. All of her senses were heightened, trained on him, watching his every heartbeat, his every breath in the eerie silence of their apartment. For the remainder of the night, every time Adrien twitched in his sleep, mumbled unintelligible words, Marinette’s stopped beating for a second, waiting for the worse. Even Tikki and Plagg were watching him with sad eyes, both of them having been witnesses to too many of those sleepless nights.

When morning came, Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

Adrien shifted in his sleep, and the sun rays fell on his pillow, highlighting his typical Chat Noir bedhead. After the rough night she had had, she allowed herself to giggle at the sight, prompting him to crack one eye open.

“Mmmh?” he mumbled under his breath, making her giggle louder.

“Morning, Adrien. How are you feeling?”

The answer didn’t come immediately, almost as if he had to search for his words, to focus intently on constructing the sentence before saying it out loud. Adrien furrowed his brows and tried to reach for his glasses on the nightstand, pressing his face on Marinette’s cheek in the motion.

She felt warmth.

 _Too much_ warmth.

“Adrien you’re burning up!”

He groaned, finally grabbing his glasses and pushing them on his nose. “I’m fine, sorry for-”

“Adrien Agreste if you try to apologize for your nightmares I’m going to end you. And you _are_ running a fever. Let me email my teacher, I’m not leaving you alone today.”

Adrien rolled on his back with a frustrated growl, looking at Marinette with an annoyed look. “It’s just a fever, I’ll be fine. Finals are coming up, you can’t miss classes on my behalf.”

She sat up in the bed. “Fine. But I’ll check up on you hourly, and I’ll cancel the movie night.”

“Marinette, you’ve been looking forward to this movie with your friends for weeks. I’m going to be okay.”

“I’m worried about you,” she said with a frown, tenderly brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Now that she could take a clear look at him, he was obviously sick. He was still shivering, chills running down his skin. His complexion was pale and ghastly, beads of cold sweats pooling at his hairline and running down his shoulders. There was too much white around the edges of his eyes and they seemed somewhat vacant and had troubles focusing on her.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, but his head following her hand like the cat he was, even more so whenever he was sick, told her otherwise.

She sighed, getting up from the bed, which prompted an onslaught of protestations, both from Adrien and from Tikki and Plagg. The former mourned the warmth of his partner, while the latter were worrying Marinette would actually listen to him and leave him to his own devices.

Instead, Marinette walked to his pants from the previous day and fished his phone out of his pocket, plopping it on the nightstand in plain view.

“I’m leaving this here. If the fever gets any worse, I’m expecting a call right away, alright? Same if any other symptoms appear. I’m going to call the school to warn them to get a sub teacher, and have Nino bring Alya’s mom chicken noodle soup later on for lunch. Understood?”

Adrien smiled sheepishly, burying himself back in his pillow, “Okay, I’ll-”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Chaton,” Marinette cut him out, a smile dancing on her lips. “We both know I can’t trust you to take care of yourself. Tikki, you’re in charge, okay?”

Plagg laughed in delight, flying in front of her with a pleased smile, “Does this mean I get to go to the movies? And eat _popcorn_?”

Marinette shook her head as she walked to the kitchen, gathering light snacks for Adrien on a platter and a tall glass of icy water. “Sorry Plagg. Tikki’s gonna need all the help she can get to deal with Adrien’s stubbornness.”

The little kwami pouted in disappointment, but Marinette was already one step ahead of him. “I’ll cut you a deal. You both take good care of Adrien for me today, and I’ll stop by the bakery on my way home for a cheese danish and some macarons for Tikki and you. Deal?”

“You’re a hard bargainer, Ladybug. Taking me by the feelings like that…”

Marinette giggled, walking back to Adrien’s room. “Well, do we have a deal or not?”

“Alright,” Plagg sighed. “We’ll call you if he does something stupid. Keep your phone close by.”

After tucking in her more than reluctant friend back in bed and going over her safety rules for the day once more with both kwamis, Marinette quickly got dressed and called Adrien’s school, letting them know about their physics teacher current predicament.

Less than an hour later, she was bursting out the university doors, wildly out of breath and her heart and mind miles away from fashion. Marinette plopped down in her seat, worry weighing heavily in her gut. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and quickly checked if she had missed any notifications.

No messages. That should mean everything was fine. Right?

Marinette was lost deep in those thoughts when someone gently nudged her elbow. “...to Marinette, Earth to Marinette. Are you there?”

She snapped out of her grim musings to be faced with Mark’s usual kind smile. He was wearing his brown hair swept back this week, a style that suited him much better than the weird fake mohawk he had tried a month prior. His black Ray-Ban glasses were making his gray eyes pop nicely against his fair complexion, and he was apparently again trying to grow out a beard seeing as a dark stubble was present on his chin and cheeks.

A few of her classmates were quite enamored with him, and when she really paid attention to him, she could understand why. He was easy on the eyes, and his unfailing sense of style wasn’t hurting either. That day he was wearing a V-neck wool sweater in a shade of blue that was really well paired with his complexion along with a pair of designer jeans that were perfectly fitted for him.

But he was no Adrien Agreste to her.

He could never compete.

“Sorry, Mark,” she answered half-heartedly.

Her reply wasn’t convincing the slightest, and he quirked an eyebrow up, looking at her disbelievingly. “Okay. Tell me, honey. What’s wrong?”

She sighed as she checked her phone again, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by her classmate. “I’m really sorry. I had an awful night, and I’m really worried about a dear friend of mine.”

Mark’s smile widened. “You are too kind for your own good, Marinette. I’m sure that friend of yours will be fine.”

Memories of the previous night came back to her. Adrien’s wild screams, the sheer terror in his eyes, in his voice. “You… you can’t understand. My roommate… he… He has nightmares. Really violent and nasty ones. Yesterday’s was particularly vivid judging by his reaction.”

“What are they about?” Mark asked, leaning toward her.

Marinette checked her phone again, her nerves getting more and more jittery by the minute. Had leaving Adrien in Tikki’s care been a mistake? Would he really be fine on his own? What if Nino forgot to knock before coming in the apartment, hence discovering in a more than untimely manner the existence of Adrien and her magical friends? What if-

“Marinette?” Mark’s gentle voice prodded, tearing her out of her spiralling thoughts. “Does he even tell you about those nightmares? They seem to be… pretty disturbing, to say the least.”

Her heart went to Adrien again. Her poor kitty, lying in bed alone, a deathly fever raging and no one but thousands-year-old deities with no idea about using technology whatsoever watching over him. He was doomed. Doomed. And-

“You’re doing it again.” Mark’s pulled her back to reality, and Marinette forced herself to quell the worry stifling her. “You’re spacing out on me.”

She shook her thoughts clear, smiling sheepishly at her friend. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep. Adrien, he… Sometimes he talks about the nightmares, when they aren’t so bad. But other times, like last night, they’re too horrible to even mention them ever again. And I respect that.”

“But why does that impact your sleep? Do his nightmares give you nightmares also? I don’t understand,” he insisted, and suddenly Marinette felt as if she was interrogated. She knew it was only her nerves going haywire because of the lack of sleep, so she forced herself to calm down and consider the situation from an outsider's point of view. Mark wasn’t aware of the tight bond she and Adrien shared, or how close they truly were.

“When the nightmares happen, he ends up screaming and thrashing around in his bed. Last night he was so upset by whatever he dreamed of that I ended up spending the rest of the night with him, making sure he was really okay.”

Mark’s mood shifted upon hearing those words, going from a gently prodding and caring friend to somehow offended. “You mean that you _slept in his bed_?”

Marinette tilted her head and stared at him in disbelief, curious at the sudden shift in tone. What was so wrong with taking care of an upset friend in need? “Yeah. So?”

Mark leaned back in his seat and stared at her. “But that’s highly inappropriate, Marinette.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed as she tried to figure out how taking care of her best friend in the middle of a meltdown was inappropriate. “What? How?”

“You’re so naive,” Mark sighed. “All guys want the same thing; a way into your bed. He’s found an easy way in and one day he’s going to take advantage of your innate kindness and—”

“You’re a guy,” Marinette pointed out. She knew that she was being petty, but Mark’s uncalled for prodding paired with the lack of sleep she had grated on her nerves. It didn’t help that news from Adrien’s health, good or bad, weren’t coming in, despite the surgically precise instructions she had left with Tikki.

He smiled sincerely at her and touched her hand. “And I would never take advantage of you the way he is.”

Rather than feel flattered, Marinette felt angry. He knew nothing about the battles Adrien and she had fought together, about the times they had saved each other’s lives, about the nightly patrols running across Parisian rooftops. He couldn’t understand how closely their destinies were intertwined, how many of their wounds were alike.

She had to fight a strong urge to stomp out of class and run back to roll into Adrien’s bed, just to prove her classmate wrong. “Adrien and I have been friends for ten years, Mark. And never has he even said a word out of line to me. He’d never do anything to harm me. He had a nightmare. He was feverish this morning. I’m worried about him. End of story. I don’t need a lecture from you or anyone right now.”

He seemed to sense the shift in the mood, though, because he instantly backpedaled, “I might be wrong. I haven’t met him and-”

“Can we please concentrate on the class?” Marinette replied, turning away from him so she’d face the front of the class, effectively stopping any further conversation regarding Adrien and her so-called ‘inappropriate’ behaviour.

* * *

Marinette’s day was awkward from that point onward. She could tell Mark was actively trying to get forgiven for their morning argument, treating her to lunch and being overly cheerful. She tried to get over her annoyance with him and judge him fairly. Could she really fault him for not knowing how close she and Adrien were? To top it off, the movie she had been looking forward so much with a few of her friends from Françoise-Dupont fell flat, her mind entirely focused on her feverish kitty stuck at home.

Halfway through the motion picture, Alya nudged her slightly and grinned. Her fingers ran across her phone’s keyboard, and seconds after Marinette received a text.

_[Alya] Go back home. You’re worried sick about him._

Marinette sighed.

_[Marinette] I can’t leave in the middle of a movie. It’s rude._

_[Alya] You aren’t even watching it. I’ll explain. Go back to him._

She pondered the pros and cons for a minute, before ultimately deciding that her time would be better spent by Adrien’s side. She retrieved her purse and quickly excused herself from the theater, pointedly ignoring her girlfriends’ curious gazes.

Before she reached the lobby, her phone chimed again in her purse.

_[Alya] Don’t worry, I got this. Nino said Adrien was miserable over lunch, go take care of him._

_[Marinette] U sure?_

_[Alya] Go before I change my mind. Make sure Monsieur Agreste is on his feet tomorrow morning. Mom sent enough soup for you both to have a lunch._

Marinette felt her heart swell pleasantly in her chest. The years hadn’t tainted hers and Alya’s friendship, on the contrary. Their bond was one of acceptance, of dealing with the fact that they were both different human beings with different needs, and that their love for each other didn’t have to be lessened by the fact that their realities weren’t the same.

So she quickly typed back some rushed thanks, knowing that Alya would be able to read the profound gratitude between the lines, and rushed back home after a mandatory detour by the bakery to fulfill her promise to Plagg…

...only to find her heart crushed into a million pieces.

Adrien was lying barely conscious on the couch, a huge bowl of cold chicken noodle soup discarded untouched on the floor beside him. His entire body was covered in cold sweat, and he was shivering violently, looking utterly miserable.

Never in her life had Marinette hung her keys faster on her hook, rushing to Adrien’s side with her heart pounding in her chest. “Kitty? Adrien? Are you okay?”

His eyes cracked open, a slim glimpse of hope. “I… I….”

“Don’t strain yourself,” Marinette ordered, her mind going into overdrive. “First of all, we have to get you into bed. I’m not leaving you alone, I don’t wanna risk a repeat of last night. Wanna sleep in mine?”

His weak nods were all she needed to gingerly lead him to her bedroom, and she gently tucking him into her blankets. His eyes slammed shut almost instantly, and he buried himself in her pillows. She sat beside him on the mattress, gently brushing his wet bangs out of his eyes.

Plagg flew in front of her, holding part of the cheese danish she had abandoned near the front door. “Sorry, Marinette, but he hid his phone when you left so we wouldn’t bother you. He’s been feeling under the weather for a few days, you know,” the little deity said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t want me to tell you in case it’d worry you.“

Marinette smiled sadly. “Silly kitty… Is that why he was so wound up last night?”

“Yup,” Plagg answered as he took a huge bite out of his danish. “He took some fever medicine before bed yesterday, hoping it would keep you from noticing. I guess that’s what triggered such a violent nightmare.”

Her gaze fell on the sleeping figure of the blond man beside her, and Marinette found herself smiling.

“Well then,” she said fondly, lying down beside him and pulling him into her arms, “I guess it’s up to me to make him feel safe.”


	24. Train Wreck

“You still look awful, man.”

“Jeez. Thanks, Nino,” Adrien sighed deeply from his vantage point on the couch, hoping with all his might that the painful pounding in his head would resume any time soon. Sure, he knew he was far from runway material in his current state, as he was curled up in a tight ball under a pile of heavy blankets he had borrowed from Marinette, clad in his oldest but most comfortable pajama pants. The fever had flared up sometime during the night, making wearing his shirt unbearable. His hair was a mess, and his nose was red and blotchy, and if he had to suffer through another used-to-the-bone rerun of  _ The Young and the Restless _ he felt like he might end up killing someone.

But still, knowing he looked (and felt) like a train wreck, and having it shoved into his face were two very different things. His mood was already going haywire due to the way his lovely roommate had been fussing over him constantly for the past few days, stubbornly refusing to leave him alone for the shortest time, forcing medicine down his throat and watching over him even while he was sleeping. Adrien was so done with this cold that he didn’t even know where to begin.

Nino smirked, dropping on the couch beside his best friend. “I’m just stating the truth, dude. You look like a bus just ran you over. That’s a really nasty cold you caught yourself.”

The blond groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I just wish Mari would stop hiring babysitters to watch over me day and night. I’m twenty-five, for heaven’s sake. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Marinette coming home from school to find you passed out on the couch suggests otherwise, man. You shouldn’t have tried to hide your illness from her. She can be pretty merciless when she wants to.”

“I still don’t get why you have to spend all day here watching over me. It’s pointless.” Adrien could feel his patience quickly wearing thin. Three days of work missed, a full weekend’s worth of Nino’s teasing in the bank, he felt fully ready to go back among the living. He was going crazy being cooped up in the apartment all day, a fact that his roommate was very aware of.

Right on cue, Nino chuckled, burying himself further into the couch. “Well, it’s the only way Mari can go to school without worrying about your pretty ass. What do you want to play today?  _ Ultimate Mecha Strike V _ ? Or we could try to finish that  _ Zelda’s  _ campaign we began last night?”

“Marinette is going way overboard with this stupid cold. I would’ve been able to teach my class without any troubles yesterday, not to mention today,” Adrien sighed stubbornly. “A cold never killed anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re wrong here, dude, but anyways. Marinette worries about you. You were dead set on her not skipping classes because of you, so here I am. My DJ gigs are mostly night gigs anyway, so it’s not like I’d have anything better to do with my time right now.”

“Again, thanks dude. I can feel the love oozing from your words.”

Nino chuckled, reaching forward to grab a controller. “Deal with it or call Mari yourself and cope with her ire on your own. Either way, you’re stuck with your best bud for the day.”

“She loves me too much to do me any  _ real  _ harm,” Adrien pouted childishly. 

“So, admitting the truth at last, are we? Marinette  _ does  _ love you,” Nino playfully nudged him, a huge grin stretching his lips. He looked every bit like a cat who had just eaten a canary. 

Adrien took a sharp intake of breath. He had walked into this trap with his eyes closed, offering himself to his friend’s nosy prodding like a gift wrapped with a nice little bow on top. This topic of conversation never boded well for him, not if Nino was involved. He idly wondered if Marinette had to deal with the same kind of nonsense with Alya, and if she did, how she handled it.

He made a mental note to ask her later that day, assuming that he was to survive to Nino’s merciless teasing. Predictably, his best friend resumed his idea, “I don’t get why you aren’t dating her yet. Heck, you  _ live  _ with her, man. What’s holding you guys back?”

“She’s not ready, Nino,” Adrien groaned. “She’s focusing on school for the time being, and things are great between us like they are right now.”

Nino scoffed disbelievingly as his character fell off a boat on the screen. “For all you know she might never make up her mind. I know that she really loves you, but keeping you hostage like this is unfair of her.”

“She’s not keeping anyone hostage,” Adrien answered a bit more harshly than he would’ve liked, “I’m waiting on her because she’s worth it. This is like the hundredth time we have this conversation Nino, I haven’t changed my mind.”

The digital character wandered off its path yet again, pulling a frustrated huff out of Nino. “I honestly don’t know what Mari’s deal is. The girl spent her teenage years fantasizing about having three kids and a hamster with you, dude. She could have it all, and she keeps stalling for some reason.”

“That’s between Marinette and me,” the blond said as he revived Nino’s character once again. “And- wait, what? What did you say just now?”

“Dude, have you forgotten who my girlfriend is? Alya and Mari  _ talked  _ about those things back then. She was totally crazy about you back then, on a cringeworthy level.”

“I’m not sure Marinette would like you going around telling her childhood secrets to everyone,” Adrien frowned. He felt like he was intruding into uncharted territory against his will, like Nino had opened a door that had never been meant for him to pry into. Sure, Marinette had told him about her teenage crush on him before, but this was another level entirely.

“You’re not everyone, you’re  _ you.  _ And you still should be meeting people, Adrien. It’s not healthy to keep waiting on her like that,” Nino added, unaware of his best friend’s conflicted feelings.

Adrien had a dry laugh. Was Nino even listening to himself? “Yes, because it would be such a nice icebreaker. ‘Hi, I’m Adrien, I never dated anyone because I’ve been hopelessly in love with my roommate for the past ten years even though she never showed any interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with me. There’s a good chance I’ll dump you if she ever changes her mind, but hey, who knows? Wanna grab a coffee or something?’”

There was an awkward silence, and Adrien knew that he had gotten his petty point across. Frustrated, Nino still pouted, “Yeah … somehow I can’t see it working that well. But Marinette loves you, man, it’s pretty obvious to anyone that has functioning eyes. I just don’t get why she keeps you hanging like this.”

Conflicting emotions assaulted Adrien’s hazy mind. For one, he  _ knew  _ that Marinette loved him. There were things that didn’t lie, beginning by the way she took care of him every time he had a nightmare to the way she always fixed his tie knot when he messed it up. He also knew firsthand that she had gone ballistic upon having to drag him from the couch to her bed earlier that week, and that Tikki and Plagg had been on the receiving end of a long and heartfelt rant about responsibilities and priorities. But he also knew that she wasn’t ready to slap a label on their relationship.

Not yet.

As far as he was concerned, he would be more than happy to give her those things she had been dreaming of, and then some. Screw the hamster, he’d buy her an entire zoo if that made her happy. If the choice was left to him, they would already be long married and busy starting a family of their own. In his lovesick mind, any other ending wasn’t even an option. He loved her with all his being, loved her beyond anything he ever thought was possible. He wanted children with her, wanted to marry her, to spend the remaining of his days beside her. 

But it took two to tango, and if Marinette was more comfortable in the amazingly close friendship they shared, then he would content himself with it.

Just being allowed to live with her, to share his daily life with her, and being able to claim just a little spot within her heart satisfied Adrien’s longing soul. She and he, they were part of a whole, part of something that was greater than them both. Something that was greater than any words, than any labels.

“Nino,” Adrien groaned warningly, “I love Marinette with all my heart, and I love her enough to respect her boundaries. I won’t push.”

“But don’t you want more, bro? I mean, it must be a torture, living with her, having her shower a few feet away from you. How long will you wait?”

Disbelief was clear in Nino’s voice, and Adrien shook his head. How could he expect his friend to understand the complicated bond that tethered him to Marinette? “I’ll wait however long is needed, man. I want this to be built on healthy grounds, I want something strong and lasting.”

“But—”

“I love her and she loves me, Nino,” Adrien cut his friend off. “That’s enough for me. I don’t need labels.”

Nino chuckled, pushing the controller on the coffee table. “Okay, you’ve definitely spent too much time in here, you’re becoming delirious. Go put some decent clothes on, I’m taking you out for lunch.”

Pushing his lean body from the couch, Adrien took a good look at himself and sighed, “Gonna head in the shower real quick first, I  _ do  _ look awful.”

“Told you so,” Nino laughed playfully. Rolling his eyes at his friend’s antics, Adrien fished his phone out from the couch cushions, pulling up his conversation with Marinette.

_ [Adrien] Nino is treating me to lunch, don’t worry, your prisoner hasn’t escaped his golden prison my lady. _

His phone chimed by the sink while he was taking his clothes off, the vapours of the water heating up in the shower already doing wonders for his stuffy nose. 

_ [Mari] Stop being petty, silly kitty. Have fun with Nino <3 _

Adrien chuckled before stepping under the water. She had begun adding little hearts to her text messages a few months back, and he was trying with all his might not to read into it too much. For all he knew she added smileys to all of her texts. Deep inside though, those two innocent characters added every now and then made a glimmer of hope find its way into his heart.

Fifteen minutes later, a freshly shaved and somewhat decent looking Adrien exited the bathroom, wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt.

“Hey dude,” Nino called out to him from the living room, holding Marinette’s Chat Noir plush up, “why were you sleeping with plush dolls?”

“Leave Ladybug and Chat Noir alone,” he answered as he stepped back into the room, running his hand through his hair. “They’re gifts Mari and I gave each other when she first moved in. They’re important to us.”

Nino gasped playfully from the couch, dropping Chat Noir beside his partner as he stood up and retrieved his wallet from the coffee table. “Look at that! You look human again!”

“Man,” Adrien snorted as he grabbed his jacket, “sometimes I don’t know if you love me or if you hate me.”

His phone chimed in his pocket, cutting short to whatever clever retort Nino was about to give him.

_ [Mari] Mark insisted we do the costume project together, coming home with him. Have a nice day kitty xx _

“Seems like we’ll finally get to meet Mark later today,” he announced as he sent her a quick reply.

Nino quirked an eyebrow, “Ah. The infamous Mark.”

Adrien locked the door behind them, eyeing his friend curiously. “Why infamous? He’s a good friend of hers.”

“He spends a lot of time around Mari, Adrien.” Nino sounded like he was stating the obvious, but Adrien still failed to see where he was headed with that empty statement. His friend picked up on his obliviousness, shaking his head with a sad smile. “She either has too many ovaries for his tastes or he’s smitten with her, dude. You’re going to have her stolen right under your nose if you don’t step up your game.”

“He’s just a friend,” Adrien answered, not liking the slightest where that conversation was headed. “I spend a lot of time around her too.”

“And you’re head over heels about her.” Nino sighed as they made their way to the nearest café. “Look, all I’m saying is that you should make a move before Mari thinks you’re not interested anymore.”

Desperate to shift the conversation away from Mark and his imaginary feelings for his lady, Adrien blurted out the first thing to cross his mind, “Say, dude, I’m curious. Did Mari ever mention kid names?”  

Nino chuckled, “You bet, dude. She already had all three names picked.”

“And they were?”

“I don’t know, man,” Nino shrugged. “Alya wouldn’t tell me, apparently some secrets aren’t hers to tell.”


	25. Taken

When Mark’s customary morning coffee appeared on her desk, Marinette couldn’t help but be infinitely grateful toward her friend. The last few days had taken their toll on her, sleeping with an eye open in case Adrien would go through another horrifying night terror. She was running on fumes, barely even able to listen to her teachers. She flashed a radiant smile to Mark, taking a sip of the comfortingly hot beverage with a contented sigh.

“Thanks, Mark, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled back, slipping into his seat beside her. “So, are we still on for that costume project? I thought we could do something pretty neat if we look into less known Disney heroes, like Megara or the girl from Brave.”

Marinette giggled as her phone chimed in her pocket.

_ [Nino] Reporting for duty, captain, about to enter the dragon’s den. _

_ [Marinette] Just keep an eye on him for me, will you? The fever keeps acting up. _

“Is something on your mind, Marinette?” Mark’s kind voice asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

She smiled sheepishly, holding her phone up. “Just Nino. I think he worries about me.”

Mark’s expression softened. “Well, you’re his fiancée’s best friend. Of course, he worries about you. You must be like a little sister to him.”

_ [Nino] Dude’s being delirious again. Says he’s not  _ THAT  _ sick, but he’s sweat a tiny lake on your couch. _

Marinette sighed, closing her eyes for a brief second. The lack of sleep was taking its toll on her, and she could feel her patience slipping through her fingers. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m running on very little sleep, and I’m still worried about my friend.”

_ [Marinette] Please try to get him to take some acetaminophen at the very least. This fever has to go down. _

“You’re too kind for your own good,” Mark stated, pulling out his notebook from his backpack. “I sure hope your roommate realize how lucky he is to have you.”

_ [Nino] I think all those soap operas he watched are getting to his head. I’m going to take him outside for a bit. _

_ [Adrien] Nino is treating me to lunch, don’t worry, your prisoner hasn’t escaped his golden prison, my lady. _

Marinette smiled, looking at Mark. “I think he does. He doesn’t have any family left, so I think I’m the closest thing to it he has right now.”

_ [Mari] Stop being petty, silly kitty. Have fun with Nino <3 _

“I think Adrien’s gonna survive, his best friend just took him out for the afternoon,” Marinette announced, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “So, for the costume design project, Disney seems too predictable to me, I think too many people are going to go down that path. We could take inspiration from our origins instead, designing some Chinese or British traditional outfit.”

Mark stared at her for a minute, seemingly computing what she just had told him. In the end, he just smiled, “Let’s talk about it after the class, alright? We should head back to your place if it’ll be empty because my brothers are too rowdy for us to do actual work.”

Marinette nodded, shifting her attention back to the teacher after shooting a quick warning message to Adrien.

_ [Mari] Mark insisted we do the costume project together, coming home with him. Have a nice day kitty xx _

* * *

_ _ When the class finally came to an end, Marinette quickly gathered her things into her bag, her mind going at full speed. If she and Mark could get enough work done on the costume project before Adrien came back home, maybe she’d have time to fix them a nice dinner. The blond had found his appetite back the previous evening, and she knew he was craving her mother’s famous quiche. With a little luck, she’d even have enough time to cook a fresh batch of chocolate chips cookies for Tikki and him, provided Plagg let her cook instead of whining for yet another wheel of Camembert. She thought of the radiant smile that always lit up Adrien’s face upon biting in one of her homemade cookies, and something pleasant fluttered within her stomach. Yes, she decided, she wanted to do something nice for him. She wanted to see that smile.

Unfortunately, she had a prior engagement, and since she'd been blowing Mark off all week so she could watch over Adrien like a mother hen, the due date for the project was quickly approaching. She had no choice, not if she wanted to pass that class.

Unaware of his classmate’s thoughts, Mark stood up, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder. “So, are we taking the bus to your place or are we riding the subway?”

“Option C,” Marinette giggled. “Our apartment is close enough to the university for me to walk. It’s conveniently super close to his school too, so it’s a win-win for both of us.”

“His school?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Are you living with a middle-schooler?”

She couldn’t help the way her eyes rolled, a slight irritation flaring up in her chest. Why was he so interested in Adrien all of a sudden? “He’s a high school physics teacher. He teaches at that school a few block away, the big one with the red roof. His students absolutely adore him, because he turns everything into a game.”

Mark must have sensed the shift in her mood because he dropped the subject and instead began talking excitedly about their assignment, and how cool it would be to make a typical British dress with Asian accents. Marinette feared it would be too cliché, and preferred to stay away from the overused cheongsam. They debated it back and forth a little as they walked to her apartment, ultimately settling on designing a traditional hanfu tang suit and incorporating British elements like flannel or tweed. She was partial to English lace, but Mark was reluctant to use it, stating lace was hard to sew, and they were short on time.

Marinette pushed the door of their apartment, ignoring ostensibly the way Mark was gawking at the cozy flat she shared with Adrien. In the two years she had lived there, Marinette had left a little bit of herself in every room, hanging pictures of them and their friends, adding throws and cushions, forgetting balls of yarn near the couch, trying to grow plants despite Plagg’s despicable habit to munch on them when she wasn’t looking. She was still pissed at him for the tragic demise of her last coriander and basil plants. The apartment had a much homier vibe than when Adrien had first brought her here after the fire, but it still had a certain luxury flair to it from the high-quality furniture Adrien had picked and the spacey rooms.

Before Mark could make any comments, she hung up her keys and took off her shoes, smiling at him warmly. “Get comfortable in the living room, I’m going to close Adrien’s bedroom door. His cat is a scaredy little thing, strangers tend to spook him.”

As soon as she closed Adrien’s door behind her, releasing Tikki from her purse, Plagg flew in front of her, glaring at her. “A scaredy cat, huh?”

“Would you have preferred a basil murderer, Plagg? There’s cheese in Adrien’s mini-fridge and cookies in my purse, you and Tikki enjoy yourselves and play nice, alright?”

Tikki giggled at Plagg’s frustrated groans, assuring Marinette that she would keep an eye on the grumpy kwami. Marinette exited the room, carefully closing the door back behind her.

“Who were you talking to?” Mark asked as soon as she came back to the living room. 

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she opened the fridge to grab two sodas. “Adrien’s cat. Asked him to behave, but I don’t know what good it’ll do. This thing murdered more balls of yarn and plants than I could count.”

Offering Mark one of the sodas, she plopped herself down on the floor beside him, pulling out her sketchbook. She opened it on her lap, quickly sketching out the raw lines of what she had in mind. He made a few suggestions along the way and several sodas and half a dozen sketches later, they finally had something they both agreed on.

“That’s gorgeous, Marinette,” Mark said when she was finally done sketching their agreed upon design, and Marinette could feel her heart swell with pride in her chest. She had come a long way ever since the day Adrien had taken her in, and when she thought of how far she had made it with his precious support, she was elated.

“Thanks,” she answered gingerly. “I still think we could manage the lace if I sew it here instead of with the lame sewing machines they provide at school. And Adrien bought me a really nice bolt of cashmere for my last birthday, in a lovely light blue shade. I wouldn’t mind using it for that project. I’d have to get my sewing shears sharpened beforehand though, otherwise, I’d just ruin the fabric.”

Mark stared at her for a second, wordlessly, before pulling his own shears from his bag. “I got mine sharpened just earlier this week. Would they work?”

She examined the thread of the blades for a second, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be perfect. Now, I think I can manage the colored final tonight and send it to you for approval, and come up with a pattern before the end of the week. Would that be okay? Would you mind coming over this weekend to help me with cutting and pinning the fabrics? You're taking care of the essay component, right? We can go over the draft on the weekend at the same time.”

“You’re amazing,” Mark suddenly blurted out, taking Marinette aback. She stared at him for a second, trying to regain her bearings.

Surely he hadn’t meant anything by it. Right?

Averting her gaze from his, she stubbornly fixed her eyes on her sketch. “Thanks, Mark. You’re a really great friend, too.”

“No,” he answered almost instantly, and the next thing she knew he was crouching in front of her, holding her hands in his. His fingers were cold and clammy, and a deep sense of wrongness pooled in her stomach. “That’s not what I meant. You’re truly amazing Marinette. You’re beautiful and kind, and funny, and I’m in love with you. What am I even saying? Love isn’t strong enough a word to even begin describing how strongly I feel about you.”

“Mark…” Marinette tried to cut him off, but he wasn’t listening to her. He was close, too close for comfort, and he wasn’t letting go of her hands.

“I love you ever since I’ve laid eyes on you for the first time, Marinette. I can’t live this lie anymore, I can’t spend another day without you by my side. I want to spend my life with you, I want to make all your dreams come true. You’re all I can think about, I can’t see my life without you in it anymore.”

Marinette tried to back off, her escape countered by her back colliding with the couch. Mark finally let go of her hands, though, and he stared at her intently, obviously waiting for an answer. She steadied herself on the floor, the room spinning around her, and felt a familiar softness beneath her fingers. Sure enough, her hand wrapped around her Chat Noir’s doll and she held it up to her heart, suddenly feeling safe again. “I’m sorry, Mark,” she said, words tumbling out of her lips without even thinking about them, “but I don't reciprocate your feelings. My heart is already taken.”

And as she spoke those words, she  _ knew  _ that they were the truth. She loved Adrien more than anything, and he had been more than patient with her over the course of the last two years. After all this time of comfortably hanging out in the safe zone they had built for themselves, he was still waiting for her to make a move, for a sign that she was finally ready to fully give him her heart.

And sitting on their living room floor, tightly hugging her Chat Noir doll and about to break the heart of her friend, Marinette knew that all she wanted was to give her heart to Adrien.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Mark’s voice was cold, hard. Marinette recoiled, lifting a worried gaze toward him. “That is between us.”

He stood up, gathering his things into his bag with harsh movements. “You led me on,” he practically spat at her, anger dripping from every word.

Marinette clutched her Chat Noir doll to her chest, looking at Mark disbelievingly. How could things have gone south that fast? “I beg your pardon? How in the world did I lead you on? We never talked about anything even remotely involving a romantic relationship between us.”

He snorted humorlessly. “I bought you a coffee every single day for months. Did you really think I didn't want anything back? That I did it only to be nice?”

“I just thought…”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Mark interrupted her. “Was it fun, playing with me like this?”

She jumped on her feet, refusing to let go of her doll. She felt as if it was giving her strength, helping him cope with the intense whiplash she had just experimented. “I only ever offered you friendship,” she stammered, still trying to make sense of everything that had just happened, of everything he was accusing her of. “It’s not my fault you saw something that wasn’t there!”

Whatever reply he was about to give her died on his lips as the unmistakable sound of the front door opening broke the silence, followed by a cheerful, “Princess, we’re home!”

Adrien, oblivious to the thick tension in the air, dropped his bag at the door and strode into the living room, hair mussed up and cheeks red from the wind outside, Nino on his heels. He was clutching his jacket around his chest, a sign that the fever was flaring up again, but he had shaved and had that Chat Noir mischievous spark back in his eyes. He grinned from ear to ear, holding up his fuming cup. “Nino got me tacos!” He announced proudly, “and the pumpkin spices latte are finally back! I got you one, Mari.”

Nino grinned at her, happily sipping on his own coffee. "I made sure we didn't overdo it, Mari. He held my hand crossing the road and everything. He was a good boy, he even got a lollipop!"

Adrien shoved him playfully, laughing at the mustache of whipped cream adorning his friend’s upper lip. “I drew the line at him pre-chewing my food,” he chuckled, “I felt that was a tad overboard.”

Marinette giggled despite how upset she felt, her friends’ childish antics always cracking her up. “Thanks, kitty,” she replied quickly, before gesturing to Mark. If Adrien noticed how stiff she was, he didn’t let it show the slightest. “Adrien, Nino, this is Mark, my friend from the fashion program. Mark, this is Adrien, my roommate, and this is Nino, his best friend, and Alya’s fiancé.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Adrien said with a kind smile, holding out his hand. “Marinette talked a lot about you.”

“Oh, now I get it,” Mark murmured under his breath while ignoring the hand and openly gawking at him. “Well, Marinette sure forgot to mention she was living with Adrien  _ Agreste _ ,” he added. “I’m a huge fan of your father’s work. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bus to catch.”

Without another word or even as much as a glance toward Marinette, Mark left the apartment, leaving her a confused mess from the intensity of the emotions she had just gone through, and leaving Adrien and Nino beyond confused.

“Did I say something wrong?” the blond wondered out loud, breaking the awkward silence at last.

Marinette sighed, tiptoeing to press a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for the coffee, kitty. And don’t worry about Mark, he’ll be fine.”

Setting down the cup on the kitchen counter to get started on that craved quiche and those much-needed cookies, Marinette could only hope she was right.


	26. Off

Nino left soon after Mark did, but not before Adrien caught him casting a few worried looks in Marinette’s direction. Truth be told, he himself was getting more and more concerned about his roommate. The young woman’s back was ostensibly turned to them as she rummaged into the kitchen, her shoulders stiff, her head hung low. She had completely clammed up upon herself, her eyes stubbornly trained on the skillet she was using to cook her mother’s famous quiche, her lips stretched into a thin line. 

One of the things Adrien loved the most about living with Marinette was the cooking. She had been raised with the idea that meals were a sacred moment meant to be shared with loved ones, and that the cooking leading up to it should be a celebration. Her mother’s legendary skills behind the oven and the few glimpses he had gotten of her own culinary heritage through their years of friendship had set the bar pretty high. And she was living up to it. Marinette was making him sample every delicious thing she made, taught him how to adjust the spices to match his tastes. There was always laughter filling their kitchen when she was working her magic, she was always dancing, singing, showing him all sorts of tips and tricks. Cooking with Marinette was a delightful festivity he wouldn’t miss for anything.

Usually.

Because she was now cooking in complete silence, her shoulders hunched over herself. The sizzling of the eggs cooking in the pan was the only audible sound in the apartment, apart from his own heart pounding in his ears.

Adrien found himself studying her, analyzing the way she was worrying her lower lip between her teeth, trying to find a purpose in the way she was not-so-subtly avoiding talking to him, in the way her spatula was scraping the pan a bit too harshly.

She just seemed  _ off. _

Her eyes kept wandering to the living room, making Adrien worries grow up a notch. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she was looking at, a forlorn look in her unique blue eyes. The Chat Noir and Ladybug plushies were on full display on the couch, even though the poor black cat had seemingly been thrown over his partner. 

Was  _ he  _ the problem? Had he said or done anything to upset her? To make her revert to her secretive and silent past self?

“Mari…” he almost shyly tried, “what’s wrong? You haven’t said anything ever since Nino left.”

She looked up from the pan, flashing him a smile that was so obviously fake that Adrien was almost offended she thought he would buy it. “Nothing. I just had a rough day, that’s all. Can you hand me some plates? Dinner’s about to be ready.”

He stood up, biting back disbelieving words. Confronting her directly never had any good results, but it was getting under his skin. Plagg’s less than subtle snickering wasn’t anything to soothe him either.

What in the world was wrong with the love of his life, with his best friend?

She brought the plates to their dining table and sat beside him, her shoulders still stiff and her eyes still devoid of any warmth. Her usual cheerful “Bon appétit!” was blatantly missing as she all but attacked her plate with her fork.

Never in his life had Adrien thought he would miss two stupid little words that much. Two words, barely even ten letters that suddenly meant the world to him.

They ate without exchanging words about how their day had gone despite Adrien’s many attempts, without their usual bantering, without Adrien’s customary praises on her cooking. The heavy and unusual silence of their meal was suddenly and blissfully broken by the doorbell, startling them both. Marinette seemed to reconnect with reality, her eyes finally meeting his and the shadow of a smile creeping up on her lips. 

“I’ll get it,” she said softly, getting up. “I was done eating anyway.” 

Adrien nodded and took another bite of his quiche. The cheese melted pleasantly on his tongue, but it wasn’t enough to mask the sour aftertaste of worry. Marinette’s behaviour was akin to how she was acting the first few weeks of their cohabitation, and he suddenly found himself wondering just how much of a flight risk she was at the moment. She hadn’t fled in a long time, but she also hadn’t set her walls back up with him in just as long. 

And that frightened him beyond any words.

He listened to Marinette’s light footsteps in the hallway and the front door opening, curious about whoever could be interrupting their dinner at such an odd time. Had Mark decided to come back after all, or had Nino forgotten something? Random visitors were a seldom occurrence in his high-end building, something he had been infinitely grateful for following his father’s imprisonment and the never-ending onslaught of reporters that had followed.

“Oh, hi, can I help you?” he heard Marinette say in a neutral tone that was only fitting talking to strangers, teasing his curiosity even further.

Adrien stood up, walking up to the door just in time to hear a familiar voice shyly answer, “Oh, erm, we-we are sorry to bother you. I-I’m Sofie Morgan, and this is Wrenn Brown and David Peterman. We are coworkers of M. Agreste at  _ Edgar-Quinet _ . Is he home, by any chance? We had hoped to see if he’s doing any better and drop a care package for him from the entire college.”

Before Marinette could reply, he stepped in, flashing the smile he used to offer to the cameras at the young woman standing on the threshold. Marinette hated that smile. She always said that it was fake and empty. Two other people were behind their impromptu guest, eyeing curiously his tousled hair and his wrinkled clothes. He sighed inwardly, resisting the urge to run his hand through his hair and make it look even messier than it already looked. Sure, he guessed it was nice of his coworkers to drop by for a quick visit after so many days sitting on the bench, but their timing couldn’t have been worse if they had tried.

“Oh, evening guys,” he greeted them, his voice still a bit raspy from his cold.

Sofie, a French teacher that was apparently the entire college’s spokesperson, bashfully handed him a somewhat heavy basket, her hazel eyes carefully avoiding his with a dark blush spread on her cheeks. She was two or three years younger than him, he couldn’t remember, and she had been harbouring a not-so-subtle puppy crush on him ever since she had been hired.

Willing a somewhat believable smile to remain on his lips, Adrien took the basket, startled by its weight. Sofie giggled, “Watch out, everyone wanted to pitch in. There’s a little bit of everything in there. Mme Lebon from the cafeteria baked you a batch of brownies, there’s tea, cookies, croissants, chocolate and some apples. Wrenn pitched in some herbal tea to help with your sinuses. I think I have even seen cough syrup somewhere in there, must be the janitor, M. Charbonneau kept insisting that you needed some. We’re missing you at school, you know, students are asking about you.”

“I’m doing better, thanks,” he answered, trying his best to ignore the way Marinette had stiffened beside him, falling back into her stubborn silence. “I should be back by Monday if everything goes according to plan. You guys have met Marinette? We’ve been friends since our teenage years.”

Sofie was the first one to react, offering a warm smile and a hand to a still-silent Marinette. “What a pleasure to finally meet you! Adrien has spoken about you so much, I feel like I’ve known you forever. How is school going?”

“Oh, erm, sorry.” Shaking her head, Marinette reached out to take the offered hand and gave it a shake before letting go. “School’s going as well as it can be. Midterms are approaching and I’m buried knee-deep in projects and essays that are almost due,” she tentatively replied, then subconsciously taking a step back or two. Her shoulder bumped Adrien’s arm, and he felt her relax at the slight contact.

“We’ve all been there,” Sofie answered warmly, a kind and comforting smile spread on her lips. “But you’re living your dream! You must be thrilled.”

Marinette shuddered against him, but before Adrien could intervene she said in a quiet but firm voice, “Yes, I’m very happy. I would never have made it that far without Adrien’s support. He must be Paris’s most fashion-knowledgeable physics teacher by now.”

Her answer prompted a shy but polite laugh from their guests. After a few other banalities exchanged about Adrien’s current health and how the students were coping both at  _ Edgar-Quinet  _ and at  _ ESMOD,  _ Sofie, Wrenn and David excused themselves and wished them a good evening. 

It took Marinette a few seconds to react once the door closed on their visitors, ultimately turning her bright blue eyes towards him. “They seem really nice,” she said, her voice blank, devoid of any emotion.

“Yeah, those are the three I get along the best with,” Adrien shrugged. “David teaches chemistry, he’s the one who accidentally blew up the lab that time I told you about. He’s a real jokester, you’d get along well with him. Wrenn is our music teacher, she’s a bit esoteric with her herbs and her zodiac thingies but she’s really kind and knows a lot of things on a lot of subjects. You can’t ever grow bored talking with her. Her husband is the art teacher, M. Martin. You met him the other day.”

She smiled absently, her eyes still downcast, inhabited by an unknown shadow. “What about Sofie?” she asked, her voice somewhat subdued.

Worry crept up a notch within Adrien. Had he said anything to upset her? He felt like they had suddenly taken a two-years step back, like the tight-knitted bond they had built over the months of their cohabitation had somehow been thrown away. “Sofie? She’s our French teacher, a really passionate reader. What about her?”

“She seemed really kind. She must like you a lot, having put together such an amazing care package,” Marinette replied, her eyes still darting around, avoiding his prying gaze carefully.

"Yeah, Sofie's really sweet. I like her." Adrien snorted. "She has the cutest laugh when she talks about  _ Ouran Highschool Host Club _ , and she kinda reminds me of you a lot."

Marinette suddenly jumped to her feet and went to put her plate in the sink, her shoulders still hunched. “I’m going to go out on a jog,” she announced without warning.

“Did … did I do something wrong?” Adrien asked, his heart caught somewhere in his throat.

She smiled, that half-hearted smile he hated so much. What happened to make her close up like that again? Whose ass did he need to kick? “It’s not you, don’t worry,” she answered. “Something happened earlier today and it keeps nagging at me. I’m just gonna head off on a jog and clear up my mind, okay? Hopefully I’ll figure things out.”

True, it had been a long time ever since the last time she had run away like that, but it still worried him to no end. “Want me to come with you?” he asked, hope fluttering in his chest. He wanted her safe, he wanted her by his side.

However, Marinette just shook her head. “But you  _ hate  _ jogging, silly kitty. Besides, you’re still running a fever. If you really wanna help me, maybe take a warm bath to clear up your sinuses and wait for me with some tea? I should be home around nine.”

“Mari…” Adrien tried to stop her, at a loss about how to cope with his roommate obvious struggles.

She was a few steps ahead of him, though, as she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek before she opened the door. “Hey,” she said, “if it’s alright with you, I could really use some cuddles while watching some funny movie when I get back. Would that be okay?”

Adrien felt his heart swell in his chest upon hearing those words. Whatever was bothering Marinette, she was still trusting him enough to lean on him.

“I’ll get the popcorn ready, then. Be careful, princess.”

She smiled at him upon hearing the pet name, the first genuine smile of the evening. “I promise. I’ll have my phone with me, kitty.”

Yet, when the door closed behind her, Adrien couldn’t shake the worry still weighing down in his gut.


	27. Fragile Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song Marinette is listening to as she runs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zudbz4hOcbc  
> Feel free to listen to it with her ^^

Marinette set up her favourite workout playlist as she slipped into her running shoes, the comforting familiar sensation of the shoes encasing her feet somehow grounding her flailing thoughts. [ One of the Hamilton musical’s song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AcM20zu51Aw) filled up her earbuds, and she felt energized, ready to take on the pavement. She started on her usual path, the one she loved the most and brought her on many bridges and across well-lit parks.

The events of the day had disrupted the fragile balance she had built, had thrown her flaws and her hesitations in her face mercilessly.

Mark was _in love_ with her. Or so he said. They had known each other only for a few months, how could he have become that infatuated with her? How could she have missed the signs all of that time? How could that have slapped her across the face, unexpectedly, how in the world hadn’t she seen that coming?

And then there was Mlle Morgan.

_Sofie._

If she was honest with herself, Sofie was perfect on all fronts for Adrien. Her tight brown curls framed her angelic face just in the right way, her porcelain skin made her look like a doll. Her voice was soft, caring, and it was obvious that she thought the world of Adrien. No matter how upsetting it was to her, Marinette had to admit that Sofie was a much better match for Adrien that she’d ever be able to be. She was cute, she was nice and warm, she looked cuddly, and Adrien _liked_ her.

She couldn’t see a single reason why Adrien wasn’t dating her yet.

No reason but _her._

How many times had she unwillingly gotten in the way of Adrien’s happiness? How often had she unknowingly shielded him from a future that could have been brighter for him?

He loved _her._ He had put his entire existence on pause for her, being nothing but patient with her stupid and pointless hesitations. He had accepted what little place she had been ready to make him in her life, never pushing for more. They had been living together for the past two years, both refraining from dating, eating together and more often than not sleeping in the same bed. The only thing lacking from their relationship to make them a _real_ couple was kisses and physical affection, something she was craving for.

What was she that afraid of?

But now, realizing she was too close for comfort to losing him, an obsessive thought inhabited her.

 _She_ wanted **_more_ ** out of their relationship.

Ever since she had moved in with him, Adrien had been nothing short of fully supportive. He had been a constant presence, a reliable source of comfort she had been able to lean on for almost two years by then.

The song in her ears changed and a [ familiar melody ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zudbz4hOcbc) began to play through her headphones, the warm voice of Kelly Rowland punctuating her feet hitting the road. Marinette ran to its beat, her mind still spiralling with thoughts of Adrien, of Sofie, of Mark, of feelings. So many feelings she didn’t know how to deal with. Trying to distract herself from her fruitless musings, to give her mind the breather that running was supposed to achieve, she instead tried to focus on the song.

But, of all the songs on her playlist which could have popped up at that moment in time, this one seemed by far the most ironic. Its lyrics caught her heart off guard, made it stutter in a way that had nothing to do with exercise, for they were a perfect companion to how she felt toward Adrien, their struggles, their tumultuous past, the walls she'd set up around herself, the love that washed over her, made her last defenses crumble.

That’s when it hit her.

HARD.

Love.

She **_loved_ ** him.

What she had said to Mark had been nothing short of the sheer truth.

She couldn’t give out her heart anymore. Solely because it didn’t belong to her any longer. It hadn’t for nearly a decade.

Adrien had held it in the palm of his hand, and had been kind enough not to crush it despite her useless reluctance to finally slap an overdue label on their relationship that only kept stalling due to her unfounded fears.

She paused at a street light, her thoughts running wild and free. True, Adrien had hurt her seven years prior out of shame and sheer cowardice. But he had been hurting too at the time. He had lost his last living relative, had lost his partner, had lost the only thing tying him to sanity.

And yet, despite everything, despite the hurt and Gabriel’s betrayal lingering between them, she **_loved_** him.

Denying it was useless.

And she was **_terrified_ **.

But she wanted to give them a shot

She wanted to try.

She wanted to be **_his_ ** _._

But, first, she had to find out if Sofie’s obvious attraction toward Adrien went both ways. It wasn’t right for her to step between that, especially since he’d already waited so long for her. That wouldn’t be fair. She could support him, the same way he supported her all these years.

If there was a chance, even a minuscule one, that he still felt the same way about Marinette, that the affection he held for her hadn’t died back to just friendship, she was going to dive in wholeheartedly.

Lost in thoughts, she jogged down the Pont des Arts, wondering how she could get more deserving of Adrien’s affections than Sofie. How she could make sure Mark wouldn’t put an end to their friendship because of a love story that had begun a decade prior to meeting him.

A foreign hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist and she stumbled forward, letting out a startled cry, but a strong arm circled her waist, unexpectedly breaking her fall. She barely had time to register what was happening before her whole body was pressed against the cold stone of the bridge’s railing, her arm firmly held behind her back uncomfortably while unknown fingers held her flush against her attacker.

Fear crept up Marinette’s throat.

She was vulnerable, left without any real means to defend herself. The late hour and the darkness surrounding them rendered the possibility that someone would see them and intervene practically null. Sure, Marinette was fast and agile, but she lacked significant physical strength against a strong opponent, a weakness Chat Noir had always compensated for. Tikki had stayed home with Adrien and Plagg, and even if her kwami had been with her, transforming in front of a perfect stranger was out of the question.

She was at his complete mercy. And it was driving her mad.

All of her senses went haywire, taking in every single detail of the dire situation she was in. The pressure of the unknown hand on her arm, the feeling of the stone pressed under her abdomen, the fingers grazing down her throat slowly. The sound of a man’s breathing near her left ear, the water running under the bridge. The faint aromas of a nearby café, of her own sweat on her skin. The sour aftertaste of the bile rising up in her throat as fear took over her. The unsettling view of the waves crippling almost too calmly beneath her, of the darkness wrapped around her.

Marinette was painfully over conscious of her surroundings.

And of just how much she was in trouble.

“Screwing the Agreste kid to climb your way up into fashion, Marinette?” a voice that sent shivers creeping up her spine whispered right in her ear. “I would never have pinned you for a whore.”

Marinette suddenly felt as if lead had pooled into her gut and was making her drown. She knew that voice. She knew it too well. She knew those intonations, the way their British origins kept showing every now and then into his French accent.

There was no mistake possible.

The man holding her captive was no other than Mark.

Her classmate.

Her partner in everything school-related for the past weeks.

Her friend.

The man who just a few hours prior claimed to be deeply in love with her.

The friend whose heart she had unwillingly broke a few hours prior.

She squirmed within his hold, and he merely chuckled, reaffirming his grip on her arm. “All the sluts at the school are after the same things. They want fame, they want money, they want a supermodel’s body, all they want is a pretty face. They don’t care about anything else. They don’t want a nice guy like me. A guy who would worship them, who would make them his everything. They only ever use the nice guys. They use them to get their way and then toss them away like a dirty tissue.”

Marinette whined pitifully hearing those words, the muscle in her shoulder starting to burn badly. His grip on her wrist was merciless, and no matter how she tried to free herself he just held her tighter. “Mark, you’re hurting me,” she whispered weakly, her heart caught in her throat.

Mark snorted in her ear, his hand squeezing her arm even tighter. “You think you’re so high above them, aren’t you? That you’re so much better than those pitiful jokes of designers who got into the program just for the pretty clothes and the cute models, don’t you? But you’re no different from those superficial, fake girls, Marinette. If anything, you’re even worse than them.”

She squirmed within his grasp, desperately trying to free herself. But he was holding her too tight, and he was tugging on her shirt, not even bothered by her failed attempts to tear herself away from him. His fingers grazed the bare skin of her waist in a way that made her whole being go rigid against him. His skin brushing hers felt wrong. His breath in her ear felt wrong.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled through clenched teeth, desperately trying to get her arm free from his iron clutch.

Mark chuckled in her ear, his tongue darting forward to taste the salt of the sweat on her skin. It took all of Marinette’s self-control not to recoil into herself, disgust taking over her like a tidal wave.

The only person allowed to touch her skin like this was Adrien. Adrien, who had more than earned that right over her body. Adrien, who had saved her very life time after time, who had taken care of her through thick and thin, who had helped her shower while she was in a cast and had tended to her every wish and whim. Adrien, who had waited in line at the campus library on her behalf to get her books for her because she was busy, who had willingly studied the difference between an A-line and a mermaid skirt with her. Adrien, who had never forgotten about her birthday, who kept buying chocolate chips cookies for Tikki every week, who wasn’t afraid to tell her he loved her every time he got the chance.

Adrien, who _loved_ her.

Right this second, her entire being longed for him. Things would be so different if only she had listened to him, if she had let him come jogging with her even though he hated running and would have whined all along.

He would’ve protected her if he had been there.

He would’ve stopped Mark from hurting her.

“I bet it felt good, whoring yourself to a fucking supermodel,” Mark whispered in a husky tone in her ear, unaware of her thoughts begging her partner to miraculously appear on that bridge. “It was easy, wasn’t it? Living with Adrien Agreste, fuck your way through the fashion industry, not even having to lift your pinkie to earn yourself a spot? Getting the best cashmere bolts for your birthday, having him buy you the nicest sewing machine that is out there, using his pathetic influence to get into the best fashion program even though it was way past the deadline. All the while laughing about the pitiful nice guy who was dumb enough to fall in love with you. Well, guess what? No more!”

Anger flooded Marinette’s mind at that moment. How dare he think he was above Adrien, above a man that had selflessly devoted his teenage years to save Paris from his very own father? Above a man that had taken her in without the shadow of a hesitation the second she had needed shelter? “You never even stood a chance to begin with,” she spat, bile pooling up in her stomach. “Adrien is more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

Mark smirked, clutching her arm even tighter in her back. “You said that he likes to play games with his students. How can you know for sure he’s not playing games with you, too? I bet you’re just a cute little doll in his hands, a pretty little toy he’s having fun with until he grows bored with you.”

“He loves me,” Marinette said stubbornly, unable to let him taint her relationship with Adrien with heinous words.

Mark spun her around, facing her at last. There was a mad spark to his eyes, and Marinette felt her blood freeze into her veins. “Does he, now?” he slurred, his lips uncomfortably close to hers.

Marinette stiffened. “Yes, he does,” she replied, refusing to let him win. Not about that. “And I love him. He’s my best friend. He’s my soulmate. He knows everything about me.”

“Does he really?”

She could feel his breath on her face, his fingers on the skin of her waist, and every single nerve in her body electrified. She had to break free from his hold, had to put as much distance between them as she could.

Seemingly not fazed by the way she was struggling to escape him, Mark leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “Does he like the strawberry shampoo you started using three weeks ago? Does he know you have seventy-two freckles on your nose? Does he know how your lower lip curl when you take a sip from your coffee? Does he know how that little red dress swirl when you walk?”

If the way he was slurring the words in her ear hadn’t already been enough to make the blood run cold in her veins, that last sentence made her heart pound violently against her ribcage.

Because she owned only one red dress, a design she had made a few months prior and that she liked a lot, loving how flattering the shade was to her skin tone.

She had never worn that dress to school, deeming it too short to be appropriate on campus.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, her elbow slammed into Mark’s stomach, hard. He let out a startled grunt, and his arms loosened on her a fraction. Using her innate Ladybug abilities, she twirled in his grip, and slammed the palm of her hand against the bridge of his nose, then shoved him in the chest with both hands.

The shove against Mark pushed her back further against the railing of the bridge, but she didn’t care. Leaping up on the side, she nimbly ran along the concrete wall.

A hand clamped on her ankle, and yanked her off the wall. On her way down, she grabbed the railing and hung on, preventing Mark from dragging her back to him. Lifting up her other leg, and supporting her weight on her arms, she lashed out a kick at him. “Don’t. Touch. Me!” she snarled, kicking with each word.

Mark smirked, and managed to catch her other leg, “Look what you’ve done to yourself, stupid fool, you’re completely under my control. What can you _really_ do?”

Before she could reply, the familiar sound of leather boots landing gracefully on the bridge made her heart skip a beat, made Mark’s hands suddenly loosen their deathly grip on her.

A sound she hadn’t heard in seven years.

A sound she thought she’d never hear again.

Chat Noir growled menacingly, his staff ready in his hand.

“Let her go. NOW.”


	28. His

"Adrien, we're out of Camembert," Plagg suddenly announced, sitting on the kitchen table. “This is a real tragedy. We have to fix this right now.”

The young man sighed disbelievingly, not even bothering to lift his gaze from the dishes he was washing to look at the disgruntled kwami. "How is that even possible? Mari bought three entire wheels just yesterday. You have to get some self-control, Plagg."

The little black kwami sighed, looking to the side. "Maybe that pathetic guy who confessed his undying love to her this afternoon ate them all?"

"Nonsense Plagg, Mark wouldn’t eat that revolting- WAIT. HE DID WHAT?" Adrien all but shrieked, his entire attention now set undivided on his oldest friend.

Plagg merely snickered, focusing his attention back on the cheese croissant he was assaulting. “It was revolting, to be honest. Poor thing was pathetic in his sorry attempt to woo Marinette. She wasn’t receptive. At ALL.”

Adrien opened the cupboard, “Stop messing with me, Plagg. They were just doing homework. Who confesses their love over homework?” He shook his head at Plagg’s gallivanting imagination, and groaned upon seeing the empty shelf. “Okay. Now, who ate all of Mari’s cheese croissants?”

Stubborn silence answered him, and Adrien let out a long sigh.

“Really, Plagg? Did you  _ really _ eat Marinette’s breakfast only because you were out of cheese?”

Plagg huffed, crossing his little paws in front of him. “Desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

Tikki flew in front of Adrien, her bright blue eyes worried. “But what will Marinette eat before school tomorrow?” she asked, clearly worried about her charge.

“Alright,” the blond sighed. “Guess I don’t have any choice but go to the grocery store before Mari comes home. Wanna tag along, Tikki?”

“Oh! Can I get those fancy cookies with the rainbow sparkles?” she asked, buzzing with excitation.

Adrien only laughed in answer, opening his jacket so both kwamis could zoom into his hood, nuzzling each other comfortably against his nape.

Both errands were taken care of quickly, two entire wheels of Camembert bought from their usual cheesemonger and fresh croissants bargained for an extra family dinner from Tom and Sabine later, Adrien was on his way to home.

He walked leisurely across Paris’ streets, allowing himself to get lost in thoughts. He wondered what Plagg had implied when he had mentioned Mark’s earlier and obviously unsuccessful love confession to Marinette. Wondered where he was currently standing with his lady.

He thought about his father, about how he hadn’t talked face to face with the man for years. About how the last time he had shown up at jail, it had only been to listen to a long and heartfelt rant about how much a failure of a son he was for not taking the company reins. He thought about the progress he had made in therapy, about how Dr. Postupaylo wanted him to find three happy memories from his childhood and how his father was blatantly absent of all three. He thought about his life, and his goals, and what he was wishing to achieve in the future. He thought about the family he dreamed of building with Marinette should she accept his feelings someday. He thought about his students, their struggles, the puppy crush one of them had not-so-subtly developed on him.

As he was walking down the bridge, lost in thoughts, Tikki suddenly zoomed out of his breast pocket, buzzing with agitation. “Adrien! Quick! Look over there!”

Tikki’s frenzy confused Adrien for a moment, but he followed the little kwami’s pointed paw and spotted a lithe woman jogging down the Pont des Arts, about a hundred feet from him, her dark ponytail fleeting gracefully behind her.

Marinette.

_ His  _ Marinette.

She seemed so different than she had been all evening as she was jogging. Carefree, focused entirely on the music he knew was blaring in her headphones, on the feeling of her feet hitting the pavement rhythmically. It was the first time he ever got to see her like this. He imagined some Bruno Mars or Charlie Puth newest hit playing for her, marking the beat of her feet on the concrete as she ran, maybe even one of those David Guetta rhythmic mixes she loved working out to so much.

His legendary reluctance to run when he could avoid it coupled with Marinette’s nearly blind love for it had made jogging  _ her  _ exclusive thing over the years they had lived together. She went on a jog almost daily after dinner, loving how it cleared her mind, made her feel free and serene. It was a side of her that still was unknown to him. But seeing her like this, so free, so intently concentrated on the way her body was moving on the concrete, on the way her limbs propelled her forward, it only made him crave her touch  _ more. _

“ _ ADRIEN! _ ” Tikki insisted, her little paws shaking uncontrollably with anxiousness, and that’s when he saw  _ it. _

From afar, it vaguely looked like a human shape closing on Marinette, darting up menacingly behind her.

He looked closer, Tikki’s obvious discomfort bugging him. He  _ knew  _ that step, that posture, that shoulder width. He had only seen it with his own eyes once, but it had made quite an impression on him. He remembered how out-of-place he had felt in his own home, how much of an outsider that man had made him feel.

_ Mark. _

Seeing Marinette’s odd classmate creeping on her like this, in the darkness, without her having a single clue about what was happening in her back it was more than enough to make chills run down his spine.

“Plagg,” Adrien began, but his kwami flew in front of him with a panicked look.

“Adrien, wait, our bond is still way too weak for this and the transformation might be unpredictable, maybe we-” Plagg rambled at full speed, becoming a distant echo as Adrien disconnected from his kwami's voice and kept his focus forward and looking into the distance. He watched helplessly as the creepy shadow crossed the distance remaining between him and Marinette much too quickly to his tastes. Fear, anger, and desperation constricted his chest in a painful way. 

His green eyes glued on the drama unfolding on the other bridge, on Mark’s unwavering grip on the woman he loved, the young man hastily called out the words he never thought he’d say ever again, deaf to his kwami’s desperate pleas.

“ _ CLAWS OUT! _ ”

In any other circumstances, Adrien would’ve savoured the feeling of the magic engulfing him, of the leather covering his limbs and empowering him.

But as things currently were, he was longing to get to her, to get her free from the claws of that monster.

He  _ needed  _ to.

The transformation washed over him, leaving him slightly breathless. Years after, the motion of reaching in his back and gripping his staff was natural, embedded in his muscles. On the other bridge, Marinette delivered two precise blows to Mark and, reminding Chat Noir that she was still his wonderful Ladybug, vaulted up on the side railing of the bridge. Hope swelled in his chest at the thought she might escape on her own, then was dashed as Mark caught her ankle at the last minute, making her fall. Blood boiling in his veins, Chat Noir vaulted himself over the Seine, landing effortlessly behind the struggling pair.

As soon as his boots came in contact with the bridge, the leather-clad hero saw Marinette relax in her attacker grasp, letting out a relieved sigh.

And it completely  _ broke  _ his heart.

Because it was obvious that somewhere in the back of her mind, she had been  _ waiting  _ for him. That even years down the road, she still had faith that her partner would always be there when she’d need him, she still trusted him with her life.

That was far more credit than he deserved.

If Plagg hadn’t gone through his entire Camembert stash, if the little pig hadn’t eaten all of Marinette’s croissants, Adrien would currently be patiently waiting for his lady at home with a bucket of popcorn and some silly movie. He  _ wasn’t  _ supposed to be on that bridge.

He had  _ no _ reason to.

And yet, here he was, staff ready in his hand, a low growl rumbling in his chest. That bastard had barked up the wrong tree, and Chat Noir was about to show him exactly just  _ how much  _ he had committed a fatal mistake and gotten his filthy hands on the wrong girl.

“Let her go. NOW.”

Both Marinette’s and Mark’s heads snapped toward him at that moment, staring at the lean figure covered in black leather with opposite reactions. Mark loosened his grip on her ankle out of shock, allowing her to wiggle out of his reach and kick his hand away from her. Before his attacker could even comprehend what was happening, she scrambled up to her feet and rushed to the man she loved with a breathless, “Chat Noir!”

The hero wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. 

“Step away from him, Marinette. Everyone knows that Chat Noir is dead. That guy is only a freak in a leather costume playing vigilante,” Mark sneered, and Chat Noir felt his blood run cold in his veins. 

Had he  _ really  _ dared?

Marinette, the woman he loved above everything else, was currently a trembling mess in his arms, scared out of her skin, because of that selfish, twisted monster and his unspeakable actions.

And he had the nerve to warn her about  _ him _ ?

The man who would give his life for her on a second notice?

The man who thought the world of her? 

Hatred and fury blurred his vision, and Chat Noir was barely able to keep himself from using cataclysm on Mark right on the spot. He reluctantly tore himself from Marinette, even if the last thing he wanted was to let her out of his sight, and he moved forward as to shield her body from Mark with his.

“Sorry to disappoint, but this cat is the real deal,” Chat Noir snarled menacingly, his teeth baring as his elongated canines glinted in the faint lighting of a nearby lamppost under the pathway of the bridge. 

As if to emphasize his point, he extended his staff, holding a protective arm in front of Marinette. “Just so there’s no ambiguity here, let me clarify something for you, _jerk_ ,” Chat Noir gnarled, “ _this_ lady was the wrong woman to mess up with. She happens to be in the special feline protection program.”

Mark let out a low, dark chuckle. “And who do you think you are, standing between me and my rightfully earned soulmate?”

“Wishful soulmate or not, she doesn’t belong to you. She has the choice of who she wishes to be with.” Chat Noir’s muscles rolled beneath his skin, curving into an attack position. All of his being was ready to pounce on the vermin who had dared lay a hand on  _ his  _ princess. “She’s  _ not  _ yours,” he barked, “and clearly she doesn’t want to be.”

One obsessive thought pounded in the hero’s mind.

Marinette, his princess, his lady, needed him.

He had  _ failed  _ her seven years prior.

It wouldn’t happen twice.

He would make that pitiful excuse for a man regret ever laying a hand on his best friend. His partner. His roommate. 

His  _ everything _ .

Chat Noir surged forward, staff hung menacingly, all of his muscles tensed as a guitar string. His staff connected with Mark’s jaw, hard, and his opponent deflected it with his forearm, barely grunting under the assault.

“She. Is.  _ Mine _ .” Mark hammered. “After all I’ve done for her, all of those overpriced lattes I brought her every single damn morning, all of those stupid and meaningless worries I listened to, all of those projects I feinted to need her help with. After all that crap I dealt with, I earned her. Fair and square.”

“She  _ isn’t  _ a prize to win or own,” Chat Noir growled, walking on his opponent. “She has the right to choose whom she loves, whom she  _ trusts _ .”

Upon hearing those words, something seemingly  _ snapped  _ within Mark. 

He had  _ lost _ .

That much was clear.

He wouldn’t have Marinette, she wouldn’t ever become  _ his _ .

No matter how he kept up his foolish mind games.

It all happened within a heartbeat.

Chat Noir tensed, holding his staff up and letting out a low growl.

Marinette clutched onto his arm, relief and worry washing over her all at once.

Mark grabbed his sewing shears from his back pocket. In a desperate attempt to grab the final word, he lunged forward, aiming at her, with the sole intent to hurt.

_ Hurt _ her as much as she had hurt him.

Chat Noir saw it coming.

He saw the blades aiming for his beloved.

And he did what he always did: he interposed. The leather-clad hero stepped between her and the incoming blade, and he tried to fend off Mark.

They struggled; Mark swinging blindly, Chat Noir evading. The sewing shears shone into the night, their menacing glint shining into the darkness.

Chat Noir’s greatest mistake that night was to expect Marinette, his partner, to sit on the bleachers and wait peacefully for the outcome of the fight.

Of course, Marinette wouldn’t have any of that crap.

Of course, she would stand between him and the path of what she knew had been recently sharpened sewing shears.

Before Chat Noir could even react, the shears bit the tender skin of her right forearm, making blood spill on the pale fabric of her jogging sweatshirt.

Her shocked cry brought Chat Noir’s attention solely to her wound, and he growled menacingly, shoving the brown man aside as he rushed to his lover’s side.

Mark fell a few steps backs, stuttering weakly as Chat Noir closely examined Marinette’s arm, beside himself with worry about the young lady’s well-being.

The sight of the blood trickling down Marinette’s arm was enough to make Chat Noir’s blood run cold in his veins. She, his  _ lady _ , his  _ partner _ , the most important human being to him yet was hurt.

Bleeding.

And he could do nothing to help her with it.

Chat Noir suddenly felt a sting in his side, but ignored it. He sent a blind punch square into Mark’s jaw and shoved him against one of the bridge’s pillars, his right fist ready with his Cataclysm.

“You. Leave. Her. Alone,” the hero growled, his fist shining with dark energy as Chat Noir held it menacingly over Mark’s head.

The man squeaked pitifully and wiggled out of his grip, running away with a distinct limp.

That’s when Chat Noir noticed it.

The burn in his side.

The way he suddenly felt as if his ribs were being torn open.

He glanced at his chest, concern washing over his worries toward her.

And Chat Noir nearly passed out right then.

For, sticking out from between two of his ribs, was a pair of shining sewing shears.

Pain finally took over him, annihilating any other emotion he might have held over the matter. 

Shocked, he took a few steps backwards, and barely even felt his cataclysm-charged hand hit the railing of the bridge, reducing it to ashes under his fingers.

The next thing he knew, he was toppling over the edge and into the ice-cold water of the Seine below him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry.


	29. Alone Again

The second Marinette saw the sewing shears gleam in the faint lighting of a street light, she knew they were in more trouble than she had expected.

Mark raised his hands menacingly, shears held in a tight-fisted grip that threatened to come down on Chat Noir at any given time. Shears she knew he had sharpened a few days prior. Shears that were deadly blades.

When she saw Mark lower his arm, aiming for Chat Noir’s heart, pure rage washed over her. She surged forward, shielding her partner from his impending doom with her body. Arms crossed in front of her, she backed up against Chat Noir, pushing him out of the trajectory of the blades.

The shears cut through the tender flesh of her forearm, tearing out a startled cry from her. Chat Noir’s entire focus was drawn to her and her wound, a low growl rumbling from his chest. Marinette was faintly aware of a deep sting in her arm, of Chat Noir fussing over a bleeding wound and of Mark taking a few steps back, obviously overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Everything went too fast.

Chat Noir bared his fangs toward Mark and lunged forward, calling out his Cataclysm.

Mark’s fist collided with her partner’s side, his sewing shears disappearing in between his ribs.

“You. Leave. Her. Alone,” Chat Noir growled, lifting his Cataclysm-charged hand toward his prey.

Mark whimpered pitifully, like the poor excuse of a man Marinette now knew him to be, and escaped the hero’s iron grip only to awkwardly stumble away from them, distinctly limping and sobbing.

Marinette watched, helpless, as Chat Noir paused to look at his side. He finally noticed the sewing shears sticking out from between two of his ribs, and his eyes rolled back.

He stumbled back, his Cataclysm-charge hand hitting the bridge’s banister, and, as the railing for the bridge disintegrated, his limp body toppled into the ice-cold water of the Seine.

The anguished screamed that was ripped from Marinette’s throat couldn’t be helped, and Tikki’s magic suddenly washed over her. She transformed instantly and dived into the river, a single and obsessive goal in mind.

She had to get to him. At any cost.

She had to save her kitty.

She didn’t question why she was transformed without having called for it, didn’t stop to check if they had any unwanted witnesses.

She dived into the filthy waters of the Seine, desperate to get to her partner. She ignored the fire in her injured arm as she used it to push herself further into the water, focusing entirely on the dark sinking figure a few feet away from her.

Her lungs soon burned from the lack of oxygen, and her muscles hurt from the inhumane effort she was deploying, reaching for the man she loved with every fibre of her being.

Ladybug’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, at last, pulling his sinking body toward her. She linked her left arm around his midsection, trying to ignore how lifeless he felt in her grasp, and propelled both of them up with every ounce of energy she had left.

They broke through the surface with a loud gasp on Ladybug’s part, air blissfully filling her lungs. She took half a second to gather herself, desperately clinging to her partner’s body. Her yoyo shot to a lamppost on the shore, reeling them both to safety as every muscle in her body was hurting, burning, and the wound in her arm was pulsing painfully.

Ladybug reached the side of the river, Chat Noir’s motionless form still held up to her heart, and she pulled him on the shore with a loud grunt. He was breathing, thankfully, but still unconscious. The shears were still sticking out of his ribs and shone menacingly into the light of nearby street lights, making Ladybug’s blood run cold in her veins.

There was no time to lose.

“Plagg,” she begged, “please, let go of his transformation. I can’t bring him to the hospital like this.”

Her own transformation faded, and Tikki quickly zoomed toward the bridge where the fight had occurred. A second later she was back, dropping a phone in Marinette’s hand. “It fell during their brawl. I didn’t want Mark to come back and find Chat Noir’s identity because Adrien dropped his phone.”

“Thanks, Tikki. Why won’t Plagg drop the transformation? We’re wasting time,” Marinette cried, staring at Chat Noir’s desperately closed eyes, at the somewhat and unsettling grey tone of his skin.

“Because the suit is protecting Adrien. If he drops it, then he won’t be able to lessen his pain.”

“But if he doesn’t, Adrien will  _ die _ !” Marinette almost screamed, by that point not minding the slightest if anyone heard her. She pulled out her phone from her pocket, unscathed from her dive into the Seine all thanks to the lifeproof case Alya had insisted she’d buy, and promptly called for an ambulance.

While she was talking with the dispatcher, the magic finally agreed to relinquish its grip on Chat Noir, leaving him with a bright green flash. Plagg fell on the ground with a soft thump, clearly exhausted, and Marinette scooped him up into her purse. Tikki instantly rushed to check on her partner, zooming into the bag with worried eyes. Knowing that Tikki would take care of Plagg, Marinette focussed all her energy on Adrien.

The emergency dispatcher enquired about the wounded state, and Marinette all but shouted in the phone, “There are scissors planted in his side, can you please hurry?”

“ _ Help is on its way, mademoiselle, please try to stay calm. Is anyone else injured? _ ”

“I’ve got a cut on my arm but I don’t care. He’s all that matters,” Marinette cried, cradling Adrien’s head in her lap.

“ _ The ambulance is only a few blocks away now, mademoiselle. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of your friend. If the scissors are still in, you must not pull them out, leave them in, they’re preventing bleeding.Is he conscious? _ ”

She took a good look at Adrien, taking in how limp he was feeling in her hold, how his face was twisted in a pained grimace. His wet hair was glued to his forehead, but his gorgeous green eyes were stubbornly closed.

“I don’t think he is,” she reluctantly stated. “He must be in a lot of pain though, and I’m really worried about him.”

The dispatcher sympathetically, “ _ try to keep him as comfortable as possible. Help is almost there. Can you hang on? _ ”

Marinette bit back a sob.

This was all her fault.

Had she been more wary of Mark, had she listened to Adrien’s wish to come and jog with her, things would’ve gone down so differently. If only she hadn’t gotten wounded, distracting Chat Noir from his opponent. If only she had seen the sewing shears before Mark could use them…

“ _ The ambulance should be there now, mademoiselle. Are you seeing it? _ ”

Words spoken into her phone startled her out of self-loathing, and she reluctantly tore her eyes away from Adrien’s face to scan her surroundings. Sure enough, an ambulance had pulled up near them, and paramedics were pulling a gurney out of the back.

“They’re here,” she almost whispered in the phone, as if she couldn’t even believe it.

“ _ Perfect. They’re going to take charge from here. Alright, I’m gonna hang up now, okay? _ ”

Marinette stared at her broken partner, her heart caught in her throat, and whispered, “Thank you.”

She looked up at the men who were busy setting up the gurney and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Please hurry!” She put her phone away in her pocket, cradling Adrien’s motionless form to her chest.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone again, Adrien,” she whispered in his ear as the paramedics rushed the gurney to them. “We’ll talk about all this tomorrow, understood, Minou?”

Both kwamis cuddled against each other into her purse, exchanging worried glances, as Marinette reluctantly surrendered her partner’s inert body to the paramedics, letting them lay him on their gurney. One of them tried to take a look at Marinette’s bleeding arm, but she insisted they start moving before they looked at her arm and climbed into the ambulance behind Adrien.

The ride to the hospital was silent at most, the steady beeping of Adrien’s heart on the monitor being the only thing breaking the quietness. Marinette allowed a paramedic put a temporary bandage her arm to stem the bleeding until they reached the hospital, while her other hand clinging to Adrien’s fingers tightly. She wanted him to know that she was there beside him, that he wasn’t alone, even if he had yet to regain consciousness.

The ambulance finally burst into the E.R. parking lot, all sirens blaring out, and before Marinette could comprehend anything, Adrien was rushed out of the vehicle and behind a heavy metal door. She tried to follow him, heart and mind going wild with worry, but a nurse stepped in front of her, giving her a kind but stern look. “I’m very sorry mademoiselle, but both of you took a plunge into the waters of the Seine with open wounds. I’m gonna have to treat you before I let you go to his side, do you understand?”

Marinette’s eyes filled up with hot tears, and she choked back on a sob, “But- I need to be with him, he- he needs me. He took that hit for me and...” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence, mixed emotions wildly raging inside her. Her heart was bursting out at the seams with love for her partner, her best friend, and her mind was reeling with horrible scenarios - all of them leading to Adrien being taken away from her.

The nurse’s expression softened upon seeing the tears streaming down Marinette’s cheeks, and he smiled gently. “They are taking him into surgery to remove the scissors from his ribs. Since he’s currently heavily sedated, he won’t even know if you’re there or not. I think he’d prefer you getting your own wound treated as you wait for him to get out of surgery. I promise I’ll let you know when they transfer him to the recovery room.”

Marinette nodded weakly, following the nurse to a nearby examination room. He sat her up on the exam table, and foraged in the corner of the room for a minute, searching through a drawer of various ointments and bandages. “Okay, your name is Marinette, right?” 

“Yes…” Marinette breathed so weakly she was sure there was no way he could’ve heard her.

But he turned around to smile at her warmly, hands full of medical supplies. “My name is Matthias, and I’ll be the nurse taking care of you tonight, alright? Is there someone you'd like me to call that could bring you clean and dry clothes? Or if you're feeling up to it, you can call yourself. This wound doesn’t look too bad, odds are it won’t take me long to patch up and then you can go to the waiting room for information on your friend. But I’d hate for you to wait in gooey clothes, and no one loves our nightgowns. They’ve fallen out of fashion somewhere around the dinosaurs era.”

That managed to pull a faint, but definitely there, smile from Marinette as she nodded weakly. She held out her arm toward Matthias, allowing him to disinfect the wound with alcohol-dabbed pads. 

“What happened to you?” he eventually said softly, applying some greasy goo onto the cut.

Her eyes instantly filled up with tears, but before he could retract his question, she whispered, “Some thug attacked us. I… I saw he had a weapon, and I tried to protect Adrien, but I only managed to get cut and distract him. He… He was stabbed anyway… I failed him…”

Matthias paused, roll of bandages in hand. “I don’t think you failed him. You willingly got half of your arm butchered for him, and he’s in surgery for you. That’s devotion, right there.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Marinette watched him bandage her forearm, lost in her thoughts. As Matthias cut the roll of bandage and secured the end of it under the other layers, she faintly whispered, “He’s my everything.”

The nurse lifted startled eyes toward her. “We’ll do our best to give him back to you then. I’m going to see how things are looking for him, and bring back some antibiotics for you to fight the Seine’s nasty bacterias that are currently having a party in your blood. Why don’t you call your relatives while I’m gone?”

Marinette nodded again, reluctant to let him go. That kind nurse and his idle chat had kept her sane, had prevented her from thinking too much about Adrien’s current state of health. Who knew where her exhausted mind could take her thoughts without the welcome distraction?

Unaware of his patient’s thoughts, Matthias slipped out of the room, and Marinette found herself alone with the kwamis. 

Tikki zoomed out of her purse and pushed her phone into her hand. “Text Alya, Marinette. You know she’ll come and help you out. She’ll probably bring Nino along so that Adrien won’t be alone.”

Mechanically, Marinette took the small device out and composed the most emotionless text that she had ever written in all her years of existence.

_ [Marinette] Adrien got stabbed and fell in the Seine. He’s in surgery. Could you and Nino bring us clean clothes at the Hotel Dieu Hospital? There’s a spare key glued under the door number of our apartment. Please bring something warm, we’re both freezing. Thanks. _

Without waiting for an answer, she turned off her phone.

She couldn’t deal with any questions.

Not yet.

Matthias came back at that moment, a vial of pills in hand and a radiant smile on his face. “I got news for your beau. The surgery went smoothly, he’s being transferred to the recovery room as we speak. You’ll be able to see him very soon.”

Marinette suddenly felt as if her heart had started beating again.


	30. Long Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Nino was on the verge of falling asleep when Alya’s phone chimed on the bedside table. He ignored it, as she received tons of emails at odd hours all the time. Alya, however, reached over him to grab the device. Nino groaned loudly as the light of the screen lit brightly in their bedroom. “Babe, I’m trying to sleep here, could-”

He never got to finish his sentence as Alya shouted loudly, “OH MY GOD WHAT?” and jumped out of bed, flipping the lights open and scurrying around their room to fetch her clothes.

“Al? What the heck?” 

She threw a random band t-shirt on the bed, without even looking at him, dialling something on her phone. “Adrien and Mari are in the hospital, she says he has been stabbed and- and straight to voicemail. Fuck. She turned off her goddamn phone. Dammit. They both need fresh clothes apparently, and I desperately need to know if they’re okay. Get dressed Lahiffe, pronto. I’m gonna try and find stuff that will fit them, like hell I’m gonna make a detour by their place and waste time.”

All drowsiness vacated Nino’s mind upon hearing those words. “WHAT?” He scrambled out of their bed, grabbing the t-shirt Alya had tossed him and hurriedly pulling it over his head. 

“Stabbed,” she was mumbling while she rummaged through their closet, “normal people go to the E.R. for kitchen cuts or broken legs. Leave it to Adrien to up the game and manage to get  _ stabbed _ . He really has the worst luck in the world.”

“Who would want to stab Adrien anyway? Dude doesn’t have a mean bone in his entire body,” Nino wondered out loud as he grabbed an empty backpack near his desk and held it out to his girlfriend.

She began piling clothes in it, sighing deeply as she shook her head. “Who knows? Maybe a crazed fan pissed he quit modelling, someone trying to get revenge on Hawkmoth through him, one of his students upset about a bad mark… Honestly, by this point, nothing will surprise me.”

“This world is sick,” Nino grimaced. “Hey babe, Adrien has broader shoulders than me, take that red t-shirt for him, it’s slightly too large for me.”

Alya nodded resolutely, putting the garment in the bag. “Marinette spilled wine on her jeans the other day and I washed them for her. Where are they, for heaven’s sake? There’s no way she’ll fit in one of my pants,” she mumbled as she perused their closet.

Nino jumped to his feet. “You put them on the entryway shelf so you would stop forgetting returning them to her, remember? And grab her the cotton shirt you were so mad I put in the dryer.”

“Oh, good call.” She disappeared into the corridor and found Marinette’s jeans on the shelf. She packed it with the other clothes along with shoes that were too small for her and a pair of Nino’s baskets. She put her own shoes on, heart heavy with worry for their friends. 

Marinette’s text had been so plain, so blatantly devoid of any emotion that it was easy to tell she was on the verge of a breakdown.

Which meant Adrien had probably been hurt badly.

And if anything were to happen to Adrien, it would  _ break  _ Marinette.

Her five-year-long depression would be  _ nothing _ compared to how hurt she would be should she lose him. Perhaps they weren’t involved in a romantic relationship (yet, as far as Alya was concerned), but seeing them together five minutes was enough to tell how deep the affection ran between those two.

Adrien had managed to succeed in what nobody else had been able to do: help Marinette heal at long last, help her deal with her issues and make her happy. Alya couldn’t say in all honesty that she wasn’t slightly jealous of the magic he had done for her best friend’s mental health, but the results were blatantly there.

The last thing she wanted was for Marinette to lose Adrien. She  _ couldn’t _ lose Adrien.

“Hurry up, Lahiffe, we’ll grab coffees on the way. Something tells me this is going to be a long night.”

* * *

 

What woke Adrien was the cold.

Oddly enough though, he was cold only on one side, but it was more than enough to make him shiver. He felt a twinging pain in his side, but it was mostly tolerable. He opened his eyes with a soft groan, wondering how in the world he could be cold only on half of his body.

It took a few seconds to adjust his vision to the semi-darkness of the room, but once he did manage to assess his surroundings he immediately understood the reason for his weird predicament. 

Curled up against him in the small hospital bed, her hair loose on her shoulders, clad into green scrubs, Marinette was half-draped over him, quiet sobs shaking her shoulders. Her arm was laying on this chest, carefully avoiding his wound. Said arm had been bandaged from wrist to elbow.

The events of the evening came crashing back on him, and he felt bile rising in his throat.

He had been  _ so _ close to losing her.

_ Too _ close.

Five minutes later or another wheel of Camembert in the fridge and he wouldn’t have been there for her.

Who knew what Mark intended to do to her?

And he wouldn’t have been able to do anything to protect her.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, paying extra attention to her wounded arm, and barely resisted the temptation of kissing the crown of her head laying in the crook of his neck.

“Oh,” she breathed softly not so subtly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re awake. How… How are you feeling?”

“A bit sore in the side,” he admitted, “but otherwise I’m fine. What… what happened?”

Marinette straightened up a bit, seemingly searching for her words, but Plagg beat her to it. “I tried to warn you, kid. You hadn’t transformed in way too long, our bond is acceptable at best. The suit wasn’t able to protect you like it should have been. You shouldn’t have transformed at all.”

“And if I  _ hadn’t _ , that scum would’ve had his way with Mari. I don’t care about the outcome, Marinette is safe,” Adrien all but barked in answer.

Marinette grabbed his hand and held onto it over the hospital sheets. “Adrien. You got  _ stabbed _ tonight, please don’t take this lightly. I know you only wanted to protect me, but that image is never going to leave me. Seeing the man I love more than anything, plunge into the Seine with sewing shears sticking out of his ribs, is going to haunt me, Adrien. I tried everything to help you. I even did a charm after you got out of surgery, to see if it could heal you.”

He froze beside her, and Marinette suddenly looked like she wanted nothing more than to slap herself.

Meanwhile, Adrien wondered if his trip into the river had impaired his hearing.

“What… What did you say? Did… Did I hear you right? You? You lo- love me? Like, love-love?” he weakly stammered, not sure if his heart could handle it if he had misheard her words.

She took a deep breath and cupped his cheek with her hand, smiling shyly. “I  _ love _ you, Adrien. I’m in love with you, have been for a decade now, and I’m sick of being afraid. I’m sick of letting my fears control my life. I want  _ more _ with you. I… I want to be  _ with _ you. For real. I want to try. I know we lost a lot of time we could’ve been together because of me, but-”

Adrien silenced her nervous rant with a finger on her lips, looking at her with sheer awe in his eyes. “I love you too, Marinette. With everything I am. I don’t care about  _ how _ we got here or  _ how much _ time it took. All that matters to me is that new step we’re about to take together, that I’m now allowed to openly love you. You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, princess. I love you so much, you have no idea.”

She giggled and leaned in, eyes fluttering closed, her hand still cupping his cheek. But as much as Adrien wanted to kiss her right there and then after ten years of patient waiting, he also wanted to do things properly whereas their precious bond was concerned. He didn’t want to rush into their relationship and risk ruining their budding romance with impatience.

So he pulled back, caressing her hair tenderly when hurt flashed through her eyes. “You deserve better than this, Marinette,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to remember our first kiss like this, on a hospital bed while we’re both exhausted and on edge. I want to take you on a proper first date, I want to earn the right to kiss you like the queen you are to me.”

She pouted, but the playful glint in her eyes told him she understood his point. “You just saved my life on that bridge, you’ve earned yourself much more than a simple kiss,” she tried to counter.

“And you apparently fished me out of the Seine and brought me here, so I think we’re even, princess. Please? Let me take you on a date once we get out of here, let me start our story with something we’ll both love to look back to.”

“Silly kitty,” she smiled fondly. “Our story began ten years ago when I fell on you from the sky. But fine, I’ll be patient seeing how important it is to you. I owe it to you, after all, you’ve been nothing but patient with me for years now. I love you, Adrien. I really do.”

He smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her as she settled her head back into the crook of his neck. “I love you too. My Mari. My princess.”

She hummed approvingly, and he surrendered to his earlier impulse, placing a soft kiss on the crown of her hair, holding her close. She sighed contentedly, and the next thing he knew exhaustion took hold of her and she was sound asleep in his arms, her wounded arm draped over his stomach.

He brushed her hair behind her ear, smiling at her angelic face fondly. What in the world had he done to deserve a woman as amazing as her?

He loved her so much that it sometimes scared him.

But now she wanted to return his feelings, she wanted to truly be with him.

Part of him was terrified that this was all a particularly mean dream and that he would wake up to the same romance-anxious Marinette. That nothing would have changed.

But her breathing tickling his neck and the lingering pain in his ribs told a different story.

He was so engrossed into watching her sleep in his arms that he never heard the room door open, nor did he noticed a nurse sticking his head through the door.

“Monsieur?” He asked, startling Adrien out of his daydreaming, “Are you feeling well enough for visitors?”

Without waiting for an answer, Alya suddenly barged into the room, ignoring the offended cry of the nurse and loudly gasped upon discovering both of her friends in such an intimate embrace. The nurse made a move to intervene, but Adrien just shook in head, smiling softly. “It’s okay, let them in.”

The nurse left with an indignant huff, which went completely unnoticed by Alya. “We’ve been waiting for over an hour with no one answering any questions. What the hell happened to you?” she whispered-yelled in the way only she could manage.

Adrien chuckled, holding Marinette even tighter. “Please let her sleep. We’ve kinda had a rough night.”

“You don’t say?” Nino said, obviously shocked. “How in the world did you manage to get stabbed, Adrien? And with scissors no less, according to the nurse?”

The blond shrugged, unable to tear his eyes off the woman sleeping in his hold. “Mark,” he simply stated.

“WHAT?” Nino hissed, dumbfounded.

Beside him, Alya let out a resigned sigh. “I knew that this guy was bad news. I had warned Marinette about him. He was way too sweet, way too soon with her, but she wouldn’t listen. What happened?”

Adrien took a minute to organize his thoughts, evaluating what he was willing to disclose or not to their friends. “Marinette went out for a jog after dinner,” he began slowly. “After doing dishes I realized she was all out of croissants so I went out to purchase some more at the bakery for tomorrow morning. On the way home, I saw her jogging ahead of me. That’s when Mark assaulted her.”

Alya gasped loudly, and Adrien briefly wondered how Marinette could sleep through that much noise, but Nino elbowed her as subtly as an elephant in a porcelain store. “Go on, dude,” he simply said, his mind still reeling trying to understand why Marinette was currently curled up within Adrien’s arms like this is where she belonged.

“I rushed to help her and tried to fight him off, but when he pulled out scissors of nowhere Marinette shielded me from what would’ve probably been a death blow. I got distracted by the cut he slashed on Mari’s arm, and he ended up planting his weapon between two of my ribs. I stumbled and fell into the Seine, but Mari was thankfully able to bring me back to the shore and call 112,” Adrien acutely summed up. 

Alya was livid with rage, her fists clenched tight beside her. “Where’s this scumbag now?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien honestly replied. “He ran off when he realized he had stabbed me, I think he only meant to scare me, not seriously hurt me like he did.”

“Does the police know about this?” Nino asked, obviously worried about his friends’ safety.

Adrien shook his head, “I have no idea. The hospital probably called them though, seeing as Mari told them I’ve been stabbed.”

“I’ll follow up on that,” Alya said, resolve dripping from her words. “That asshole won’t know what’s coming for him. He shouldn’t have messed with my best friends.”

Adrien’s fingers were drawing comforting circles on Marinette’s back, and he realized a second too late that his other hand was absentmindedly playing with a loose strand of her hair. Knowing that she loved him, knowing that they were  _ technically  _ a couple now, he had troubles refraining from touching her tenderly. But their relationship was still too new, and there were so many things they hadn’t talked about that he wanted to keep it between themselves for the time being.

Even if he ached to yell to the entire universe that Adrien Agreste was deeply, madly, and hopelessly in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

So he reluctantly tore his hands away from Marinette and looked at their friends, looking as innocent as he could. “Alya, don’t rile yourself up like that. We’re both alive and well, that’s all that matters, really. Whatever that Mark intended to do to Mari, he failed.”

Alya smiled softly and put down a backpack on a nearby chair. “All thanks to her knight in shining armour. Thank heavens you were there. I’ll still make sure that the police has been notified of what that asshole tried to do. By the way, Nino and I brought you guys clothes that most likely will fit you. Do you have an idea when you’re going to be discharged?”

Right on cue, the room door opened again, and a bubbly nurse walked in, holding a few medical supplies as well as a vial of pills.

“Oh, I see our little worrier finally managed to fall asleep. Good for her. I had to fetch her some dry scrubs earlier so she would be able to lie down a bit beside you. Poor thing was exhausted and barely able to stand upright. She was madly worried about you, Monsieur… Agreste? Is that right?”

Adrien chuckled, smiling softly. “Yes. Please call me Adrien.”

“Well then, I’m Matthias, and I’m your nurse for the night. Both of you are practically as good as new, so we’ll probably let you go in a day or two once we’ve run a few tests to ensure you’re really fine. Well, actually Marinette is already free to go, but somehow I have a feeling she won’t leave your side. So, how are you feeling, Adrien? Any pain or discomfort?”

“A slight discomfort where the shears probably hit, but otherwise I’m fine,” Adrien answered truthfully.

Alya and Nino exchanged a knowing glance. “We’ll leave the change of clothes on the chair, okay, Adrien? Call us if you need anything, we’ll be outside.”

Adrien smiled. “I promise. Thanks for everything, guys, you’re the best.”

As they were slipping out of the room, Matthias said with a knowing smirk, “Now, as much as I hate disturbing that pretty lady’s slumber, I need to take a look at your stabbing wound, Adrien, and get some antibiotics going to get rid any potential infections you might have picked up in the river. Do you think we can manage that?”

Adrien laughed and hugged Marinette closer. “Wake her up at your own risk and peril.”


	31. Bring Me Home (Bis)

The policeman closed his notepad, looking at them both carefully. “Anything else you might have to add?”

Marinette shook her head, hugging herself in the armchair beside Adrien’s bed. She was missing the warmth of his arms, and couldn’t wait for the policeman to be gone and climb back into his bed. “I think this pretty well sums it up,” she replied softly.

Adrien reached for her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say, either. That guy attacked Mari, I stepped in and we both ended up hurt.”

“I’ll be blunt here,” the officer said. “That man you are talking about, Mark Taylor, he came into the police station yesterday. Stated his black eye and face bruises came from Chat Noir assaulting him. Wanted to press charges.”

Adrien stammered, taken aback, “B-but… What does that mean for us? This guy is really dangerous and he tried to hurt Marinette. He needs to take responsibility for his actions. Don’t tell me you are saying we shouldn’t press charges against him?”

The officer chuckled. “I just want you both to be fully aware that odds are he’ll get a ridiculously short sentence because the jury’s gonna take into account his obvious… mental impairing.”

“You… you aren’t doubting our version of the facts?” Marinette asked, almost in shock.

The officer smiled. “On the one hand, I have a man telling everyone Chat Noir, who hasn’t been seen in years, assaulted him without any probable cause. Even when he was around, Chat was a champion for justice, so you can understand how we had trouble with his story. On the other hand, I have a young lady stating she has been attacked by a classmate whose affections she has rejected earlier in the day and her roommate who tried to defend her but got stabbed in the process. The facts speak for themselves.”

Marinette and Adrien exchanged a meaningful look. After a moment, the blond sighed, “Any chance this won’t get to the press? With my name and everything...”

The policeman stood up, tucking his notepad into his belt. “You don’t have to worry, Monsieur Agreste. Both the police force and the hospital are bound by strict confidentiality policies. If any of this gets out, it won’t be because of my men. The court will reach out to you for the trial should they decide to hold one. I’ll be honest though, both of your testimonies seem far more reliable than the suspect’s so I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I suggest you file for a restraining order. Monsieur Taylor seems… slightly unhinged, to say the least, and I wouldn’t put it past him to retaliate. I’ll get you the necessary paperwork.”

“Thanks, officer,” Marinette said softly, and the policeman excused himself from the room. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, she looked at Adrien with wide, panicked eyes, “Adrien… the  _ bridge _ !”

“What about it?” he asked, before gasping loudly, “Oh no. If I cataclysmed it, then it’s proof Chat Noir was really there and-”

“Easy, kid,” Plagg interjected. “Don’t you think it would be all over the news by now if the Pont des Arts was half destroyed? Ladybug’s charm fixed it, so no worries.”

Marinette blinked, taken aback. “But… it failed, it didn’t heal Adrien, so how-”

Tikki flew in front of her charge, gently cradling her cheek. “Because Adrien’s injury, just as yours, has nothing to do with magic. The bridge, however was repaired because it had been destroyed by Chat Noir’s destruction power.”

“Why… why didn’t you talk me out of giving the charm a try then?” 

“Because the bridge needed repairs,” Tikki giggled. “And because you wouldn’t have listened to me anyway.”

She and Adrien looked at each other then, worry obvious in both of their gazes. Adrien reached forward, rubbing his thumb along the side of her hand. “Hey. Are… Are you okay?”

“I… honestly don’t know?” Marinette answered truthfully, looking into his forest green eyes. “Part of me is still terrified Mark is just gonna come through those doors and finish what he began on that bridge. I keep dreaming I’m gonna lose you one way or another.”

Adrien smiled as she climbed back into the bed beside him, and pressed a kiss on the side of her head. “Don’t go worrying that pretty head of yours. We’ll get restraining orders against him and everything is going to be just fine.”

“But what if-”

“No. No what-ifs from you,” Adrien chastised softly. “We vanquished Hawkmoth together, bugaboo. A little too enthusiastic fan of yours shouldn’t be a problem for us, what do you think?”

Before Marinette could reply, Matthias knocked on the door, an enigmatic smile spread onto his lips. “Here is my favourite pair of patients of all time. Adrien? I come bearing good news. The blade’s officially avoided anything important, and the wound is healing quite nicely. The lead surgeon is going to come and take a look at your file sometime today, but you’ll likely be discharged tonight. You’ll both be able to get home.”

They both let out a huge sigh of relief, which had Matthias chuckle out loud. “I didn’t know you guys were that tired of my company.”

Marinette smiled at him warmly. “Don’t take it personally, Matthias. But I think we’ll both be better off once we get a good night sleep in our own beds. The last few nights have been… uncomfortable?”

“Of course,” the nurse said with a warm smile as he stepped into the room, expertly undoing Adrien’s bandages. “Alas we can’t pretend to be a five-stars hotel, so I can’t blame you both for craving a real mattress after a few nights here. Until then, though, this young man is still my patient and still has bandages to get changed.”

Adrien complied with a half-smile, his appreciation toward Matthias’s kindness overriding his annoyance.

“So, don’t take this wrong,” Matthias said with a smile, “but this is quite a nice stab wound. No signs of infection, clean and pink borders. I’m predicting a full recovery, Monsieur Agreste.”

Adrien smiled softly, clutching at Marinette’s hand. “Thanks, Matthias. For everything.”

“I’ll have to chat with the doctor in charge later, do you think you two can handle being on your own for a bit?”

Marinette wrapped her hand around his elbow and stepped forward. “He won’t be alone anyway. I’ll be there to help him should he need it. Any special care, anything we should be aware of?”

“Honestly, folks,” Matthias stated, “just change the bandages daily until the wound is healed, and both of you take your medication and painkillers as prescribed. Couldn’t be simpler. I’ll be right back, lovebirds.”

With these words, Matthias walked out of the room, blissfully unaware of the fiery blushes spreading on Adrien and Marinette’s cheeks.

* * *

A few hours later, Marinette was helping Adrien get into a cab.

“I’m injured, not handicapped, you know?” Adrien tried to argue, but Marinette proved herself to be quite a stubborn bug, staring him down with a frown. At long last, knowing he wouldn’t win over his (friend? partner? girlfriend? he didn't know anymore, but he knew that he loved her), he just blurted out, “Just bring me home, Mari. Please.”

She smiled and fussed over him being comfortable, and then instructed the driver to drive them to their apartment building.

When Adrien stepped into their apartment, at long last, Marinette felt her heart skip a beat. They had made it. This whole ordeal had been nothing but a painful bump in their road. 

“It feels good to be home,” he sighed, echoing her thoughts.

Marinette giggled as both kwamis rushed out of her purse. “No more hiding all the time and fake processed cheese! Thank heavens,” Plagg said, instantly zooming toward the fridge.

She looked at Adrien, standing awkwardly on the threshold of their home, and she smiled at him warmly. “Do… do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight? I think we kinda have a lot to talk about.”

Adrien wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. “If my lady will have me, I would like nothing more.”

A few minutes later, they were both changed into their pajamas, laying into Marinette’s bed with her half draped over him like she had in the hospital. Her bandaged arm was laying across his stomach, and he had both of his arms wrapped around her shoulders tightly.

They ultimately ended up talking all night. They reminisced about their time as superheroes, saving Paris a few times a week while somehow managing college and being teenagers. They talked about their final fight with Hawkmoth and its tragic outcome, about how they both dealt with the unexpected reveal of their foe’s identity.

Adrien explained open-heartedly why he vanished that night, the shame of being Hawkmoth’s son he felt, how he didn’t believe she would want to have anything to do with him anymore.

She talked freely about how she waited for him for nights on end, about how she knew something horrible must have happened to keep him away from her.

She talked about how much she loved him, about how she had fallen for the boy with an umbrella and then for the man fighting evil with her.

He talked about how much he loved the girl that had fallen from the sky and talked back to Hawkmoth, how fond he was of the woman she had grown to be.

“Mari?” he asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

She only hummed in answer, her face buried in his neck. He chuckled softly, holding her close to his chest. “There’s a fair in town, in the Parc des Vosges. Would you go with me tomorrow?”

Marinette lifted her gaze toward him, eyes full of love and affection. “Are you asking me on a date, Adrien? Already? But you just got out of the hospital and-”

“I’m  _ feline  _ fine, bugaboo,” He said, a smile bright enough to put the sun at shame spread on his face. “And, yes, I’m asking you on a date, only a decade late.”

“Yes,” Marinette breathed, placing a feather-like kiss on his collarbone. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you, Adrien, but not tomorrow. Tomorrow you will rest. We’ll go this weekend, alright? And every day until I die if I have a say in it.”

They lay there for a while, content in each other’s hold, revelling into the warmth of each other’s arms.

Up until Marinette remembered a detail.

She jolted out of the bed, ignoring Adrien’s disapproving groan, and sauntered back with a phone clutched into her hands. “Tikki got it back from the fight scene, she was worried Mark would figure out your identity because of it.”

As she pushed it into his hands, the screen lit up, the background picture shining into the darkness of her bedroom.

It was a picture of her.

A picture of Marinette, laughing, in their favourite coffee shop, pushing her hair behind her ear.

Taken from afar.

“Hey,” Marinette laughed upon seeing it. “When did you even take that picture of me? We haven’t been there together in months.”

Adrien gulped painfully.

There was no easy way to break the disturbing truth to her.

“Marinette…” he said tentatively, knowing he had her attention by saying her full name. “This… This isn’t my phone. Mine is right here, in my back pocket. I… I wouldn’t ever have taken a picture of you without your consent, and you know this.”

Marinette froze in front of him. “Wait,” she said, her tone unsure. “If this phone isn’t yours, then it means…”

She trailed off and grabbed the device back. She opened the messaging application, and sure enough, there were texts she had sent Mark.  _ Not  _ Adrien.

“Oh my gosh. This is  _ Mark’ _ s phone, Adrien.”

“What?” Adrien took the phone from her hands and promptly opened the gallery, going through the pictures Mark had taken.

Almost every single one of them was Marinette.

Marinette eating in a cafe with Alya.

Marinette shopping at a  fabric store.

Marinette kissing her mother at the bakery.

Marinette laughing at the arcade, pumping her fist in victory.

Marinette jogging down the Ponts des Arts.

Marinette studying in the university’s library.

Marinette walking through the Parc des Vosges, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat.

Heart caught in her throat, Marinette watched as  Adrien prodded further into Mark’s phone, growing more and more uncomfortable with his findings. She let him search further though, afraid of what he might find.

Only for him to find a detailed map of Marinette’s jogging itinerary.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Marinette breathed, aghast. “If… if he took all those photos of me, how in the world was he so surprised to find out we were friends?”

Lips stretched into a thin line, Adrien sighed. “I might have a hunch why. Look at those pictures. On every single one of them, whenever I’m with you, I’m either looking away or something is blocking out my face. Look, here I’m sitting right beside you but your arm is right in front of my head.” He switched to another picture. “Here, Nino’s cap hides me. It’s sheer dumb luck he never recognized me honestly.”

Bile rising in her throat, Marinette took the phone out of Adrien’s hand, swiping through it with shaky fingers. “Sheer bad luck if you ask me,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from the pictures in front of her eyes. All pictures of her, taken without her knowledge or her consent. Some borderline indecent as they depicted clearly her cleavage or the hem of a skirt.

All of them tokens of Mark’s obsession with her.

Unfamiliar with the phone’s brand and the way it worked, she pressed a button on accident, and the browser instantly pulled up, tearing a shocked gasp from her, a rather disturbing website opening up.

“Adrien…” she trailed off, unsure of the right way of labelling what she was seeing. “It… it gets worse.”

“What?” he cried in answer. “How can it possibly get worse?” He tore the phone away from her hands, and a curse fell out of his lips.

It was a reddit thread Mark had opened, in which he complained about the ' _ love of his life _ ' rejecting his advances, and the comments were terrifying. Details about how ' _Va_ _ lium would make her pliable if she was nervous _ ' or ' _ she invited him home, of course she wants it, she's just playing hard to get _ ’. What was worse was that Mark agreed to most of the comments, asking for additional information and acted indignant that she hadn't fallen to his ' _ charms _ '.

The phone fell from Adrien’s shaking hands, and he wrapped his arms around Marinette again, burying his nose in her hair. “I’m here, Mari. I’m right here and he won’t ever get to harm you again, I promise. I’ll give that phone to Officer Thompson tomorrow. Okay?”

Violently shaking in his hold, Marinette pressed herself against his chest, trying to ground herself.

She was safe.

She was with Adrien.

She was with Chat Noir.

He had saved her from Mark once.

He would do it again if needed.

He loved her.

Adrien was safety.

Adrien was _ home _ .

Marinette nodded weakly, unaware of the desperate way her fingers were clutching Adrien’s pajama shirt. “He… He wanted to…”

“But he didn’t,” Adrien cut her off. “He didn’t, and he won’t. I swear on my life, Mari. Nobody will ever hurt a single hair on your head.”

There was a moment of silence, both of them contemplating what could’ve been, how close to disaster they had come.

And then, pressing a kiss on Adrien’s collarbone before resting her head in the crook of his neck, Marinette whispered softly, “Thanks, Minou. Thanks for loving me the sweet, healthy way you do.”


	32. Cheesy

Waking up next to Marinette had become routine by this point. In between dealing with the night terrors and their unexpected trip to the E.R., sleeping with her was his new normal.

However, waking up to Marinette gazing at him lovingly, her arm draped across his stomach, was something entirely new to him.

“Morning,” he said softly, unsure of the way he was expected to behave. They still hadn’t talked about the shift happening in their relationship, hadn’t put that overdue (as far as he was concerned) label on  _ them _ yet. 

She beamed at him, planting a gentle kiss on his jaw. “Morning, Adrien. I… This is going to sound cheesy, but I really could get used to this.”

“What? My chiselled jaw?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

_ That,  _ he could manage. Banter with her was easy. It was normal.

He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he was  _ allowed _ to be affectionate with her now. That he loved her, she loved him, and she _ wanted _ them to build something together.

And the way his heart and his mind were push and pulling was driving him crazy. 

Marinette giggled in his hold, another feather-light kiss landing on his skin, in the hollow of this throat this time. “Silly minou,” she gently chastised. “I meant waking up beside you like this.”

There was a moment of silence, many unsaid things lingering between them. 

Marinette eventually straightened up, her nightgown lovingly framing her collarbone. Adrien gulped, trying to get his wild hormones in check on top of the weirdness of it all. His mind screamed that he was finally  _ hers _ . She  _ loved _ him, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

But his heart was faltering his impatience, wary of being manhandled again.

And above all, he couldn’t-  _ wouldn’t-  _ rush things between them.

It didn’t matter how much he wanted to ravish her in this bed right this instant, make love to her like there was no tomorrow.

What mattered most was how much he loved her. How much she  _ meant  _ to him.

He didn’t want to have only a single night with her. He wanted a whole life beside her if he could have it, wanted to wake up next to her every morning until his death, wanted to have as many children as she would agree on with her. He wanted to build an entire life with her, one that would be  _ theirs  _ and no one else’s.

She gazed at him for a moment, before saying softly, “I love you, Adrien. I love you so much.”

He beamed at her, placing a chaste kiss on her chin. “I love you too, bugaboo. Now tell me, is my mind playing mean tricks on me, or did we agree on a date sometime later this week?”

She smiled, kissing the side of his head tenderly. “We did. You kinda insisted on it before allowing me to kiss those lovely lips of yours.”

He hummed softly in agreement, holding her close to him. “I’m kinda tempted to never leave this bed. It’s comfortable. How come did I give you the best mattress? I might just switch our mattresses, it’s really unfair that you get the best one to yourself, princess.”

“Or you could simply sleep here with me, silly Minou,” she said softly. “Much less work that way. We have been sleeping in the same bed for weeks, if not months already anyway.”

He chuckled, planting a kiss on the side of her head. “I like how you think, my love.”

* * *

 

It was both easy and weird to fall back into their usual routine.

Even if the remaining of the week went at a snail’s pace as far as Adrien was concerned, it was quite an exhilarating experience to test the new boundaries of their morphing relationship, to stretch the limits of their existing bond. To play it by ear with Marinette, testing what touches and kind words she liked, which ones were making her uncomfortable.

To learn what it was like to be  _ in love  _ with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The highlight of the following week was to learn that Mark had been arrested and that he was being held in detention until his preliminary hearing considering the weight of the evidence piling up against him.

Adrien and Marinette both breathed a long relieved sigh then, an uneasy feeling lingering at the back of their mind dissipating. They were  _ safe. _

Adrien honestly felt like his life couldn’t get better by that point.

Up until Saturday morning, when he woke up with her curled up in his arms again.

Up until Saturday morning, when he fell into their morning routine with her, knowing full well they were going to go on a  _ date _ later that day.

A  _ date  _ he had insisted on before kissing her.

A date where he fully intended to kiss her at long last.

Adrien watched, unable to tear the lovesick grin off his face, as Marinette fixed coffee for both of them the way she had always done for over two years by then, in an oversized t-shirt and yoga shorts.

She caught him staring at her and smirked, pouring coffee into a mug she handed him. “See anything you like, kitty?”

“Very much,” he answered smugly, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She playfully swatted his hands away and pushed a coffee mug into his hands. “You’re quite the charmer, Monsieur Agreste.”

“Guilty as charged,” Adrien blushed.

It was new, the way his heart fluttered wildly whenever he touched her.

It was new, the way her skin called out to his like a siren’s song, making him deeply crave her touch.

It was new, scary, and yet, exhilarating.

Marinette smiled, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Why don’t we eat breakfast and head over to the fair? I’m really looking forward to our first official date.”

He hoped the radiant smile he only managed to flash her in answer was enough.

About two hours later, Marinette and he walked out of their apartment building, hand in hand, and Adrien was still trying to recover from the shock of seeing her like this. All dolled up, and for his eyes only.

He honestly thought she was trying to kill him. The traitor had slipped into a tank top he had never seen before, a lovely little number with lace trims that went all the way to her hips, and framed her collarbone in an appealing but not indecent way. So, in theory, nothing there to make his mouth go dry, right?

Except that the back of the blasted tank top was  _ all _ lace. Covering her milky skin from shoulder blades to hips, intricate and see-through lace that made him long to touch the skin bared before him, made him suddenly regret his insistence on a proper first date before kissing her.

Granted, she had been somewhat merciful and had thrown a crimson crop top over her sinful tank top, a short-sleeved top that ended in ribbons wrapped neatly under her breasts.

While the bandage on her arm kinda threw off the vibe, the colour combination looked perfect on her skin, and was heavy with another meaning, with other memories, and it only made him want her  _ more _ . 

The jeans shorts left her long legs bare for the entire world to see, and the black ballet flats she had slipped her feet in wasn’t without reminding him of the girl he had lent his umbrella to in the rain, a decade prior. A French braid laying innocently on her shoulder, the faintest touch of makeup to enhance her natural beauty, and Adrien was a man crawling on the floor for a single kiss of hers.

Those thoughts wildly running through his mind were probably the sole reason he had missed the startled gasp Marinette had left out upon seeing him stepping out of his own bedroom. He  _ knew _ she found him attractive, of course, but didn’t really think much of it. After all, there was not really anything special about the way his hair was tousled up on his head in a very Chat-Noir-like manner. Nothing special about the electric green t-shirt he wore over dark jeans, nor about the pitch black jacket he had thrown over it, mostly because he feared Marinette would be cold in the evening.

She had chuckled when she had seen him standing in the living room, gesturing to both of their color patterns with a fond smile. “Hiding in plain sight, aren’t we?”

He had smiled in answer, taking her hand in his. “Meh. Chat Noir has been missing for seven years now. Nobody will ever connect the dots. Now, shall we, my lady?”

And what a date it had been.

They ended up staying the entire day at the fair, enjoying themselves like they were still kids.

They did endless loops of Bumper Cars, chasing each other and laughing their heart out.

Their trip to the Haunted Mansion ended up with Marinette finding out Adrien was deadly afraid of zombies. And teasing him infinitely about it.

He won a giant teddy bear for her at the Ring Toss, that they ultimately gifted to a kid crying over an escaped balloon.

Overall, they had so much fun together and were so comfortable with each other that Adrien found himself planning the next date in his head already.

He loved the new Marinette he was able to discover even after years of knowing each other, after years of  _ living  _ together, the Marinette that was flirty and bashful, the one that shamelessly smeared candyfloss across his face only for the sake of seeing him smile.

The evening eventually fell on them, and they were leisurely walking around the rides when Marinette suddenly squealed, pointing to the majestic Ferris Wheel illuminating the park. “Let’s take a ride!”

Adrien chuckled softly, following her to the entrance of the ride. “You know, I’ve never been on a Ferris Wheel before. It’ll be my first time.”

He helped her climb into the wobbling seat, the warmth of her fingers raising butterflies in his stomach. As soon as he sat beside her, she scooted over to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Smiling fondly, Adrien wrapped an arm around her shoulders, unable to tear his gaze away from her contented face.

“You know, if you had told fifteen-year-old Marinette that one day she’d ride a Ferris Wheel in Adrien Agreste’s arms, I think she would have died of happiness on the spot.”

He laughed, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “Fifteen-year-old Adrien was little more than a socially inept sap, nothing worth pining after.”

She smiled at him, and he felt his stomach do a few somersaults. Her words that first night in the hospital still hung between them, like a promise of a brighter future, like a tantalizing taunt that refused to leave them alone.

He had asked for a single date.

She had willingly given it to him.

And now she was just _ there _ , not out of his reach anymore. She loved him. She _ loved _ him, and all he had to do was grasp the second chance that had miraculously been given to him.

“Allow me to disagree,” she said quietly, “You were incredibly smart and maybe a little awkward sometimes, and your kindness swept me off my feet.”

“If you were crushing that hard on Adrien, how did you end up in love with  _ Chat _ ?” he couldn’t help but ask, doubt suddenly creeping up in his throat.

Marinette giggled, resting her head against his neck again and scooting even closer to him. Just a few inches and she’d be sitting in his lap. He could feel her warm breath tickling the skin of his throat, and he had to fight strong urges to give up any pretense of control and kiss her senseless right then. “I eventually gave up on you. I couldn’t string two words in a row around you, while I had this adorable goofball of a partner who was quickly growing on me. I knew next to nothing about Adrien but knew Chat Noir like the back of my hand. By the time we defeated Hawkmoth, I was deeply in love with my partner.”

Adrien stared at their joined hands in his lap, unable to tell exactly when their fingers had laced themselves together so tightly. “And now? Do you still want that cheesy goofball?”

She laughed, her thumb gently stroking the side of his hand. “Cheesy, huh? What’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever done, kitty?”

Adrien hummed, playfully tapping his finger on his chin. “There was that love poem I wrote you when we were fifteen.”

“Hey! That was adorable, not cheesy!” she playfully smacked him.

“But I think the cheesiest is definitely that first kiss at the top of a Ferris Wheel.”

Right on cue, the Ferris Wheel stopped for a few minutes, their seat slowly rocking back and forth at the very highest point. Marinette raised questioning eyes toward him, their faces only a breath away now. “I thought this was your first time on a Ferris Wheel?” she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from his.

His eyes darkened as he willed himself to grasp the moment, to finally take a long overdue leap of faith. “It is. And this is also my first kiss,” Adrien whispered in a husky voice, before closing the heartbeat still lingering between them.

Her lips were soft on his, and warm. Nothing existed anymore but those lips gently moving with his, those fingers faintly grasping at the hair on his nape, those soft sighs escaping from her in between kisses. “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth, not even breaking away from her, and she moaned within his arms, pressing her body further against his, deepening the kiss.

They kissed for long minutes, only breaking apart for oxygen when the Ferris Wheel started to move again. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, both of them unable to wipe the matching grins of elation spread on their faces.

“Marry me.”

The words fell from Marinette’s lips, unbidden, and took them both by surprise. Startled, Adrien broke away from her, shooting her a confused look. “Of course, yes, there is nothing I want more, but… why now?”

She took a deep breath, but inched closer to him, placing a tender peck on his lips. “I told you. I’m sick of letting my fears control my life. Marry me, Adrien.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? I must be a really good kisser to get a proposal after a single kiss, but this kind of commitment involves dealing with me and my issues for the rest of your life. Do you think you can handle that? I mean we-”

“Have been living together for the past two years,” Marinette cut him off. “You snore when you’re exhausted, you’re awfully chipper way earlier than any other human being that I know, you can’t bake a cake to save your life, you turn into a cuddle-monster whenever you’re slightly sick and you come with a bunch of abandonment issues. I know what I’m getting myself into, Adrien. We’ve been in love with each other for the past ten years. We risked our lives for each other more times than I can count. That’s all the commitment I need.”

“For all you know, I could be the worst lover you’ll ever have!” Adrien mentally slapped himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Why in the world did he have to say that?

Marinette laughed, gently bopping him on the nose. “You will be the worst all right.”

“Hey!” he tried to sound offended by her teasing, but she flashed him a radiant smile, melting him right on the spot.

“But you’ll also be the best. Because there was never anybody else than you, Adrien.”

He grinned, pulling her closer to his chest, kissing her forehead with all the love that he could convey into the chaste gesture. “I looked away from you only once in the past decade, only to find myself falling in love with you all over again. Of course, I’ll marry you, if you’ll have me, your cheesy goofball of a partner, your best friend.”

Their kiss this time was full of tenderness, of promises. They broke apart with a breathy laugh as the Ferris Wheel reached the bottom and the security bar was lifted in front of them. Adrien offered her his hand, helping her down the platform, and she smiled at him mischievously. “By the way, this was our second kiss. I kissed you once when we were fifteen.”

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat and he pouted, trying to process everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes or so. “It doesn’t count if I can’t remember it!”

“If it makes you feel better the proposal was the first one. I’ve never proposed to you before.” she grinned and ran away.


	33. Peace

Waking up curled up in Adrien’s arms was Marinette’s new addiction.

They had been sleeping in the same bed for so long now, thanks to his nightmares, that she hadn’t thought sleeping together  _ now _ would be a big deal, even if they weren’t getting intimate (yet, her traitorous mind kept taunting, a dangerous train of thoughts for her sanity).

But whereas they had spent countless nights lying in bed side by side, with her sometimes holding him to comfort him through the worst of his night terrors, there was an entire other layer to the intimate act of sleeping  _ in _ someone else’s arms because you  _ wanted _ to. Because you wanted to revel in the warmth of the man you loved, because you wanted  _ his _ touch,  _ his _ comfort. Because you loved him.

She  _ loved _ him.

Adrien meant warmth, he meant safety.

He was her best friend, the person she loved the most in the world. The person she trusted the most. 

And waking up pressed against his toned chest, his arm holding her close to him, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of peace that washed away all the bumps that had been on their road. She was still riding the high of their perfect date at the fair, her lips still tingling from their tender kisses, her skin still craving for his touch.

She faintly felt him shift beside her and heard him make a phone call, unable to pay attention to the words that were spoken.

She was way too comfortable in the bed, holding onto the remnants of sleep lingering in her mind, to make the effort of making sense out of words.

He climbed back into bed before she could question what he was up to and wrapped his arms around her tightly, hugging her close to his chest and burying his nose in her hair. The unexpected motion finally slowly pulled her out of her half-awake state, and as she slowly reconnected with reality, she met Adrien’s loving gaze.

He was looking down at her, a fond smile etched on his lips.

She  _ loved _ him.

She wanted a future with this man. Wanted to write a story for the two of them alone. She wanted to marry him, heck, she’d marry him in jeans and Hawaiian shirts if it was what he wanted. She knew that Adrien wanted a large family, resenting his years as an only child, and she would be more than happy to give him as many children as they could manage together. They would go on vacation in London or in Italy, because beaches are so overrated, and they would spend their honeymoon in Greece, discovering the impressive history of that country together.

“Wakey, wakey, little princess,” he whispered in her ear, gently nudging her shoulder.

She grinned into her half-slumber, pressing herself further against him. “Give me a reason to. I’m comfortable right now.”

“I’ll kiss you if you wake up.”

“Mmmmm,” Marinette drawled out, her smile widening despite herself. “You’re driving a hard bargain, Monsieur Agreste.”

He pressed his lips against hers, tenderly, and Marinette felt her heart melt in her chest.

She  _ loved _ him. So much.

After a lot of kisses and hugs, Adrien finally managed to tear Marinette away from the bed and into their kitchen. She sat on a stool, groggily watching him fixing breakfast. 

“It’s too early to be awake,” she weakly protested, quietly sipping on the milk of the cereals Adrien had pushed into her hands.

He smiled at her, softly. “Eat up, princess. I’m gonna go make the bed.”

As Marinette was nibbling on her breakfast, Adrien was busying himself tidying their bed.

He pulled the covers up neatly, arranging the pillows over it, and noticed the Chat Noir’s doll lying on the floor next to the bed.

Taken by a sudden inspiration, he picked up the doll and set it up on the bed, before disappearing into his own bedroom, fetching the Ladybug doll Marinette had bought him her years prior. He set them both on the bed, side by side, holding hands.

“This is us, now,” he said, taking a step back.

Marinette walked into the room and wrapped her arms around his midsection, startling him, and rested her chin on his shoulder. “It is us,” she crooned, pressing a kiss on his temple. “Together through thick and thin. We’ve been through so much together, kitten. And we made it through it all.”

“We did,” he breathed softly, turning around to face her with an array of conflicted emotions on his face.

She could tell the memories were almost overwhelming him. She could almost see them flying in front of his eyes. 

She was thinking about them, too. Memories of their days saving Paris, of their vicious fight and bitter victory against Hawkmoth. Memories of his disappearance, of the nights she spent waiting for him. The day he had taken her in after the fire, her car accident, his pride when she had gone back to school. 

Their laughs, their fights. Their friendship, sustaining every hardship. The way they cared about each other deeply, the way they  _ took _ care of each other through nightmares and broken legs as well as the littlest things such as fixing coffee or buying a treat on their way home.

“I love you, Adrien,” she simply said, any other words seeming too weak to convey her feelings. “From the day we met, never forget that.”

He smiled softly, reaching down to kiss her gently. “How did I ever get so lucky to get a lady as amazing as you all to myself?”

“Must be Ladybug’s luck rubbing off on you, kitty. Now come on, coffee’s about to be ready, and it’s my last day off before going back to school. I don’t wanna spend all of our Sunday cooped up in the apartment, so use that pretty head of yours to think about something you want to do today,” she said teasingly as she hopped out of the room, his laugh following her into the kitchen.

“Actually,” Adrien said as he entered the room, “I have a surprise for later.”

She paused, blinking, almost overfilling a mug of coffee. “A surprise?”

“Yes. Dress comfortably, okay? We’ll have a bit of walking to do.”

Marinette stared at him, trying to figure out what her silly kitty could’ve come up with. “You’ve been holding out on me, minou?”

Adrien only smiled in answer, taking a sip of his coffee.

* * *

A few hours later, a puzzled Marinette was walking around the Orangerie Museum hand in hand with Adrien after a bit of window shopping. She had thought it weird of him to choose that particular museum when the Louvre was within walking distance but said nothing about it.

She let Monet’s art work its magic on her, soothing her in a manner only art had the power to do so, and found herself explaining to a patient Adrien the parallels between drawing and painting, a tad more passionate that would’ve been deemed appropriate on a (hopefully, if she hadn’t read the signs wrong) second date.

After a while, Adrien suddenly declared it was time to leave and she wordlessly followed him out of the Museum and into the Jardin des Tuileries. All budding questions about his odd attitude were promptly swept under the rug once they stepped into the gardens themselves. It was a sunny day, and it seemed like all the flowers of the gardens were in bloom. The resulting atmosphere was magical.

His weird behaviour finally made sense when they got to a more secluded part of the gardens.

Under the shadow of a huge willow tree, a large plaid blanket had been laid out in the grass. A rattan basket was resting one corner of the blanket, seemingly waiting for them.

“Adrien Agreste,” Marinette asked, gasping in surprise, “What have you done?”

He chuckled. “Treating my princess to a picnic on a sunny day. Is that wrong of me?”

He had planned all of her favourites.

How Adrien had managed this, and without her noticing anything, it was beyond her.

But there were fine cheeses in the basket, prosciutto, duck breast terrine, sparkling rose wine, fresh bread from her parents’ bakery, strawberries and dark chocolate in the basket. A tiny box of her father’s famous macarons was safely tucked on the side.

Again, her favourites.

Her eyes grew wide upon her inspection of the picnic basket, staring at Adrien, speechless.

“But… How… When… Adrien, this is too much, how did you even manage to set this up?” She finally managed to say somewhat intelligibly, to which Adrien only shrugged.

“This cat has his ways. Now, shall we enjoy this meal? It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

Marinette couldn’t agree more.

They ate in easy and pleasant conversation, talking about what was waiting for them once their sick leave would be over, about Plagg’s addiction to cheese and Tikki’s inclination toward sweets. They talked about their teenage years, talked about Marinette’s designs. Adrien talked about Sofie, about how he didn’t want to lead the poor girl on, and about one of his students that seemed to harbour an unhealthy crush on him.

The food was divine, the company perfect, and the conversation agreeable. 

Once they both ate to content, Marinette laid on the blanket, pressing herself against Adrien’s toned chest, and they resumed talking, gazing at the sky passing above them. Soon enough, the evening snuck up upon them, and she reluctantly tore herself away from his arms, gathering the remnants of their picnic into the basket.

“I still can’t believe you did this, Adrien,” she said. “This was wonderful, perfect even. I loved every second of it.”

He beamed at her as he folded the blanket. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mari. You deserved so much more than this, my lady. My love.”

“You’re delusional,” she replied, her affectionate tone betraying how she really felt. “Yesterday was wonderful, and today was perfect. I don’t  _ need _ anything more from you. And you definitely don’t need to treat me to a date  _ daily _ , you know.”

He merely scoffed, standing up and offering her his hand. “That’s a shame, because there’s one more thing I’d really like to do with you tonight.”

Adrien was looking so hopeful at this precise second, so vulnerable, that she felt her heart melt a little in her chest. “What would that be, minou?” she asked, knowing fully well that she’d easily give into whatever what was on his mind.

“I… Gosh it sounds so stupid now, but Adrien and Marinette had their first date yesterday. I-I was kinda hoping Chat Noir and Ladybug could have their first date tonight?”

Marinette’s brain refused to compute his words.

Years.

It had been years since the last time Adrien had (successfully) transformed without a life-threatening situation.

Surely he wasn’t meaning…  _ that _ ? Right?

“Look,” Adrien said, interrupting her inner breakdown, “I know how important this is to you, and I need to mend my bond with Plagg if I want to be able to protect you properly should something happen to you again. And I am fully aware that going out as Chat Noir tonight could lead to some people giving more credit to Mark’s version of the story, but I honestly couldn’t care less. I… This is  _ us _ , being them is a huge part of our relationship, of how we came to be, and I don’t want to ignore it anymore.”

Her brain seemingly decided that now was a good time to start working again, and Marinette stared at Adrien blankly. “But… I’m not sure I’m following you, Adrien. Are you meaning…” She trailed off, unsure if she could take it if the answer was  _ no _ .

But Adrien gazed at her lovingly, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “My lady, would you join this lonely kitty on a run across the rooftops? I think he’s overdue for a miraculous return.”

His answer came in the form of a searing kiss pressed against his lips, Marinette lacing her arms around his neck to press herself further to his body.

“Race me to the Eiffel Tower, Kitty?”


	34. Test Drive

“Ready for a test drive, mon Minou?” Marinette teased gently, stretching her limbs in the secluded alley they had chosen to transform.

Their spot in the gardens had been private enough for a romantic rendezvous, but members of the staff knew that Adrien Agreste was there with his date, so it wasn’t safe for him to exit it as Chat Noir. There was a limit to how gullible people could be.

Adrien nodded at her, nervously watching Plagg munching on his Camembert. “No foul play this time, okay Plagg?”

“Cat’s honour,” Plagg happily nodded with a mouthful of cheese. “Anyway, this kind of practical joke is only funny once. Ready kids?”

Adrien gulped, but he nodded. In perfect sync, they both called out their transformation, watching each other in awe as the magic engulfed them.

It was a first on both parts, witnessing their partner, their significant other transform into their superhero alter-ego.

And it strangely felt more intimate than every single kiss they had shared so far.

The magic washed off of them, leaving them staring at each other with shocked expressions.

True to his word, Plagg hadn’t messed with Adrien’s dignity, but apparently, Tikki and he had talked and agreed on an update of their suits, for a lack of a better word.

Gone was the chaste turtleneck of their teenage years. In its place was a high collar tastefully zipped up just above her breasts. Enticing without being revealing. Whereas it would’ve been inappropriate on a fourteen-year-old, it looked perfect on a twenty-five-year-old woman.

Ladybug's new design looked breathtaking and jaw-dropping. It resembled in every aspect of a feminine motorbike suit. Sleek, fitting, hugging all the right curves that his lady possessed. Gone were the simple red and black dots that was her suit as a teenager, now came the elegance of the woman standing before him. 

The front was black running from the collar of her neck and down her chest and to the inner side of her legs. The black ran up and along the inner side of her arms and turning into black gloves for the majority of her forearm and down to her fingers.  

The outside of her arms, legs, and back took on the lovely red with black dots Adrien was so used too. Her shoulders and forearms had been graced with padding designs for safety and impacts. She now had knee-high black boots and a black belt tightly wrapped around her waist holding two yoyos. 

Himself had gotten a suit more  _ au goût du jour _ . He could see Ladybug ogling him not so subtly, a fiery blush spread on her cheeks.

True, Chat Noir’s new suit design made him look hot, sexy, and handsome. Just like Ladybug’s, his loosely looked like a motorbike suit. Fitting, something that looked in every bit like Adrien style and hugged his muscular body to perfection. 

His toned and structured body was mesmerizing to Marinette. 

The collar opened more than it used to and revealed the top part of his collarbone and a bit of his upper chest. His gold bell was now shining a silver color and hanging on his chest. His black suit took over his entire body except for the added shades of very dark grey. A thin line of lighter black ran from his chest and down his stomach, and another design ran along his back. 

A small section of lighter color covered part of his forearms and lower calves. His boots reached mid-calf, and were ticker built, along with his gloves.  His tail was now longer and a second belt ran along his waist diagonally.  Silver highlights were spread all over his new suit, along certain areas, dividing the black from the dark gray colors.

“Apparently our kwamis finally deemed us worthy of our grown-up suits,” Chat Noir chuckled lowly, and he saw his partner flash him a grateful smile. This had always been their dynamic: whenever things got rough, or destabilize them, he would use humour or lame puns to make her at ease. 

What was definitely  _ not _ part of their superheroic relationship before then, though, was the chaste kiss she tiptoed to press on his unsuspecting lips, smiling softly. “Kitty,” she said in a low voice that sent chills down to his toes, “I’ve been promised a race. I haven’t run on the rooftops for two whole years and have done so solo for five years before that. Are you  _ really _ going to leave me hanging?”

Chat Noir grinned, that signature grin that had had more than a teenager swoon back in their youth. “Lead the way, bugaboo.”

She shot her yoyo forward, disappearing from the alley, and he promptly extended his staff, following her into the Parisian night. 

When he landed on the roof, she was already moving, running about twenty feet ahead of him, her braid flying behind her.

It felt good, the wind caressing his skin through the thick leather in a way he had almost forgotten about. His muscles stretched and flexed under the magical fabric, and the chase was on.

Chat Noir caught up with her as Ladybug was rounding the Trocadero. She hesitated in front of her parents’ bakery, and that was her fatal mistake. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a resonating kiss on her temple. “Caught the bug!” he announced proudly, ignoring the startled gasps from civilians below.

Ladybug spun in his hold, grabbing his face and placing a chaste peck on his lips. “That you did minou. Ready for take two?”

His laugh echoed into the quiet night, and they were at it again. Ladybug swung from building to building, relentlessly, as Chat Noir vaulted himself behind her. They kept laughing, taunting each other, throwing lame jokes at each other, flying through Paris’ sky as they used to do in what seemed to be another life.

Chat Noir caught her again at the Eiffel Tower.

Granted, she was sitting on one of the highest beams, seemingly waiting for him. He jumped on the beam with all the catlike grace he possessed, and sat beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Stories below, he could see civilians pointing at them, shouting and snapping pictures of them. 

And somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by it.

“It’s good to finally be back,” Chat Noir breathed softly, his hand gripping Ladybug’s on his thigh. 

She looked at him, her gaze gentle and her touch soft. “Is it? No regrets?”

Chat Noir pondered her question for a second. Regrets? He had many. Not realizing his father was Hawkmoth before it was too late, not confessing his feelings to Marinette before, not taking the pain his friend was obviously in seriously enough, not joining her on those rooftops seven years prior.

But being with her?

_ Transforming _ with her?

That was something he  _ couldn’t _ regret.

“None at all,” he answered truthfully, his lady’s gaze boring into him. “Being here with you tonight, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She giggled and leaned on his shoulder. “We’ll probably be all over the news tomorrow morning.”

“To be fair,” Adrien chuckled, “that midair kiss  _ was  _ epic. I’m still trying to figure out how you managed that.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, minou?” Ladybug teased, raising her head to meet his eyes. “I love you, Adrien. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he said, lowering his head to meet her lips and pressed a deep, heated kiss on them.

A few stories below, Paris was losing its mind, cheering and whooping loudly for their heroes’ unexpected return  _ and _ their apparent budding romance.

But no photographer flash, no loud shout from the street could distract Chat Noir from the addictive taste of Ladybug’s lips.

He kissed her, again and again, and when they stumbled back into their apartment hours later, untransformed, elated and exhausted, he kissed her again, holding her close.

“Thank you, princess. Thank you for giving me back  _ my _ life.”

No words in the dictionary were powerful enough to carry Marinette’s answer.

So she grabbed him by the collar, kissing him deeply.

Passionately.

* * *

When Marinette’s phone rang the next very early morning, Adrien’s first impulse was to shove it under the bed to be forever forgotten there.

He had no clue about the current hour and who might want to reach Marinette, but the way his eyes stubbornly refused to open gave him a hunch that it was  _ way _ too early for a phone call, no matter why.

Unlucky for him, Marinette stirred from her peaceful slumber, lazily stretching up in the bed. “Is this my phone ringing, kitty?” she asked groggily, and it was so adorable, so endearing that he couldn’t help but reluctantly press the electronic device into her hand.

“Whoever this is,” he grumbled, “please make it quick. The sun isn’t even up yet.” With those words, his head fell back onto her chest, and her fingers buried themselves into the blond mane, scratching his wild mane in the way she  _ knew _ was driving him crazy.

“ _ Mari _ !” Adrien heard Alya’s voice screeching through Marinette’s phone as soon as she picked up. “ _ You were fucking right all along _ !”

He wrapped his arms around Marinette’s waist, pressing his nose into her neck. Marinette silently pressed a kiss on the top of his head, her fingers lacing seamlessly through the blond locks resting in the crook of her neck. “Right about what, Alya? Tell me which bet I’ve won so I can properly celebrate and go back to sleep already. What time is it anyway?”

Adrien could hear Alya snort loudly on the other side of the life, before urging, “ _ There is no bet, Mari. You were right, you were freaking right. Ladybug was waiting for Chat Noir all of this time. And I guess the reason she hasn’t been seen in roughly two years is because she was away searching for him. _ ”

The fingers paused on his scalp, making Adrien groan at the loss, and Marinette answered softly into her phone, “What… what makes you think that?”

Alya’s powerful voice came through the phone again, reaching Adrien’s over-sensitive ears. “ _ They are back, Mari, _ ” Alya insisted. “ _ Ladybug has found Chat Noir and they are finally back. _ ”

Adrien ignored his fiancée’s (was he allowed to call her that now?) obvious discomfort at her friend’s words and snuggled further into her neck. Marinette merely sighed in defeat, her fingers burying themselves deeper in his hair.

“Alya, you aren’t even making sense right now,” he faintly was conscious of his lady objecting her friend’s wild (and true) theories.

“ _ Just listen to me for a second here, Marinette _ ,” Alya loudly shrieked into Marinette’s phone. “ _ I mean, after seven years without a single sighting of Chat Noir and two years without Ladybug showing herself, they spent last night running all over Paris, laughing, cuddling and  _ **kissing** _ , Mari. So obviously you were right from the start, LB was missing her partner. _ ”

“Is that so?” Marinette answered in a quiet voice, her finger gently stroking the blond mane. 

Adrien leaned his head into her touch, his purr becoming so loud that he faintly worried it would carry through the phone.

But her touch felt so good.

Her touch felt like home.

So he nuzzled against her hand, his purring unwillingly increasing a few notches. “Princess,” he begged, “Hang up that phone. I need proper wake-up kisses.”

Needless to say, his sleepy voice carried through the phone and Alya went ballistic on the other end of the line. “ _ Marinette, was that Adrien? Why in the world is he in your bedroom at 5 a.m.? Marinette, is there something we need to talk about? Mari, I swear if you have been keeping things from me there will be hell to pay! _ ”

Marinette only giggled in answer.

And Adrien couldn’t be more grateful.

Whatever was between him and Marinette, it was still  _ theirs _ . It was still new, precious, and exhilarating.

And he still wanted to savour it at their own pace, without the outside world mingling in their business. How slow they wanted to take it, or how fast, was no one else’s concern. So when she only giggled into the phone, her eyes lost into Adrien’s, he felt his heart swell with love for her. 

“It’s Tuesday, gotta head to my parents for the weekly dinner! Gotta go, Al. Bye!” she said promptly.

And she disconnected the line, wrapping her arms around Adrien’s shoulders and pressing a kiss on his forehead. “My kitty needs kisses?”

Adrien purred, stretching to reach her lips. “I might be addicted,” he breathed, before pressing his lips to hers.

“Also,” he said in between kisses, “It’s Monday, not Tuesday. And it’s 5 a.m.”

Marinette giggled against his lips, pulling him closer. “Oops,” she said, before kissing him even deeper.


	35. Finally

Later on Monday morning, Marinette slipped into the fashion faculty, trying with all her might to ignore the stares and the whispers around her. She could feel her classmates looking at her curiously, probably wondering how things could have gone this awry between her and Mark. She knew there was bound to be questions, interrogations, about how things had come to this unmentionable drama.

She had known this.

She had been prepared for this.

But even Tikki’s encouraging pats from inside her purse couldn’t tune out the curious whispers overfilling the amphitheater. Couldn’t tune out the way her classmates were staring at her like she was some kind of zoo animal.

 _Of course_ , their classmates were aware of Mark’s imprisonment.

And if the whispers and the stares were anything to go by, they were apparently aware of what had led to it.

Outside of her next class, one she hadn’t shared with Mark, Marinette sat by herself, her gaze trained on her lap, her shoulders tense. She could feel her classmates gazes on her, almost could hear their thoughts. Could hear them judging her, making false assumptions about her and what had transpired on that bridge.

She could almost hear them, wondering how in the world she had managed to land none other than Adrien Agreste as a roommate. The weight of their gaze was so heavy that she regretted not accepting Adrien’s proposal to stay at home that morning.

Up until Caroline walked up to her.

Caroline was one of her classmates. She was the kind of girl everyone loved, but nobody knew that intimately. She had average grades at best, but she was kind and sweet but usually quiet. Everybody in their grade knew and loved Caroline, even if no one seemed to be really close to her.

Caroline stopped beside Marinette, clutching her bag to her chest, smiling at her kindly. “Hey, Marinette. We missed you this past week. How is your arm doing?”

Startled, Marinette stared at her classmate blankly for a second, her hand unconsciously coming up to cover her bandaged wound, before stating gently, “It doesn’t hurt much anymore, thankfully. Thanks for asking.”

“And your roommate? Is he getting any better?” Caroline asked, her voice soft.

Marinette paused, looking at Caroline with wide eyes. “You… you know about Adrien?”

“Please,” Caroline smiled, “The entire campus knows how your _Adrien_ saved you from Mark’s obsessive love, you two are apparently the modern Romeo and Juliet, without the tragic suicidal ending. So, how is he doing? Word is that he got stabbed in the fight?”

Marinette sighed, staring at her lap. “Yes. Adrien did get stabbed in the ribs in the encounter. He’s doing as fine as he can given the circumstances, thanks for asking.”

“I’m glad he defended you against Mark. You don’t deserve to end up like me or the others,” Caroline said, taking Marinette by surprise.

She stared at Caroline for a second. “What… what do you mean?”

“He stalked me for months last year,” Caroline softly said. “It came to the point where I’m carrying a taser gun in my purse at all times. I didn’t know he’d fixated on you, or I would’ve told you.”

Becca, another classmate of theirs, turned to look at them intently. “I don’t want to eavesdrop, but Mark assaulted me at a faculty party a few months ago. Nobody believed me because I was drunk out of my mind. Everybody said I imagined everything.”

“Mark harassed me for weeks two years ago. Nobody did anything because I didn’t have proof,” another of their classmates added. “Dude is sick.”

“So yeah,” Caroline resumed. “While I’m sorry your Adrien got stabbed, I’m glad Mark finally got expelled and ended up behind bars. You’re the first one to have proof about how sick he is, and honestly, his claims that _Chat Noir_ attacked him without any grounds isn’t going to hold up in front of a jury.”

Caroline and their classmates’ words slowly processed in her brain, and Marinette grabbed her bag. “I’m… I’m sorry. This is too much. I… I hadn’t thought Mark had hurt more people…”

“Don’t worry,” Caroline said gently. “I’ll explain everything to Madame Jones. Go home to the man who saved you from that monster.”

Marinette profusely thanked her classmates and exited the building, her heart pounding in her chest. She pulled out her phone, quickly typing a text to Adrien.

_[Marinette] Are you still home, lovely kitty?_

_[Adrien] Yeah. Got flowers for your mom and currently trying to stop Plagg from eating them out of spite because I haven’t bought_ **_more_ ** _Camembert. Shouldn’t_ **_you_ ** _be in class though?_

Marinette giggled. Leave it to Adrien to catch up instantly on the fact she was upset.

_[Marinette] I’m apparently not Mark’s only victim. Really hurts to even think about it. Sushi for lunch?_

_[Adrien] Bribing a cat with fish, that’s quite low of you, my lady. But yes, sushi would be awesome. Are you okay?_

_[Adrien] I love you, princess._

Marinette smiled, looking at her phone fondly.

 _Knowing_ he loved her was one thing.

Having him _tell_ her so multiple times a day was something else entirely.

It made her giddy like she was fifteen again, those words displayed on the little screen, knowing that he _meant_ them.

_[Marinette] I love you too, silly kitty. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be home in 15._

_[Adrien] We’re waiting for you (Well, I’m waiting for you. Plagg is mad at me and says he wants Tikki’s cuddles)_

_[Marinette] Good thing she’s on her way too, then._

She unceremoniously put her phone back in her purse, gently patting Tikki’s head in the process, and headed home, her messenger bag safely hung on her shoulder.

She would probably regret skipping a class right after a week of absence.

But right now, she couldn’t cope with the stares and the whispers, knowing Adrien and her were the hot talk of the campus.

When she set foot in their apartment, fresh box of sushi in hand, roughly fifteen minutes later, and Adrien welcomed her with his bright smile and a quick, tender peck on the lips, she knew she had made the right choice.

Then it hit her like a freight train.

Adrien was her safe haven.

His arms around her waist, his lips against her, it felt home.

It felt _safe_.

She never wanted to be without him again.

The words she had impulsively blurted out on the Ferris Wheel, asking him right there on the spot to marry her, they never made more sense than in that precise minute, where Adrien was holding her close to his chest, burying his nose in her hair. In that minute where he was comforting her, taking away the stress and the pressure of the day.

That’s when he pronounced the words that made Marinette fall in love with him all over again. “Let’s eat those sushis, and then, how do we feel about an afternoon catnap before heading to the in-laws?”

Marinette giggled within his hold, beaming up at him. “That would be marvelous, silly kitty.”

* * *

As it turned out, napping in the afternoon nuzzle into Adrien’s arms _was_ addictive.

They had ultimately fallen asleep on the couch, wrapped tightly in each other’s embrace.   

They didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. Adrien knew why she was upset, there was no need to elaborate on the matter.

Marinette didn’t know exactly _when_ she finally fell asleep, content in laying half sprawled over Adrien on their couch, but the next thing she knew he was peppering gentle kisses on her eyelids, whispering softly, “Wake up, love. It’s almost four p.m., we might want to head to the bakery and not make your parents wait.”

She slowly stirred from her peaceful slumber, landing a grateful smile on him. “Thanks, lovely kitty.”

He cupped her cheek, pressing a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I have an errand to run on our way to the bakery, is that okay with you?” he asked in a soft, caring voice that made her heart melt in her chest.

She stretched to press a kiss to his cheek, “Let me get changed and I’ll be ready to go.”

* * *

Adrien’s errand turned out to be a stop at a nearby bank to retrieve something from his family vault.

She didn’t know what it was since the bank employee had her wait in the lobby for obvious safety reasons, but when they came back Adrien was pale and looked way beyond anxious.

It wasn’t until they were almost at the bakery that he pulled over on a random corner, looking at her expectantly and fidgeting with the wheel of the car.

“Were you serious?” he suddenly blurted out, taking her by surprise.

She would’ve laughed, had he not looked on the verge of passing out. “Was I serious about what, Adrien?” she instead asked softly.

“On the Ferris Wheel. About marrying me.”

The past half-hour suddenly made a lot more sense. Marinette reached forward, grabbing his shaking hand into hers. “I would never play a trick like this on you, minou. Of course, I want to marry you.”

Adrien let out a long relieved sigh and fished out a tiny box from his pocket. “I… I always thought I would propose to you with my mother’s ring, but you kinda beat me to the proposal. But… would… would you wear my mother’s ring? It would mean the world to me and-”

Marinette silenced his nervous rambling with a kiss, stretching over the gear shaft. “I would love to, Adrien.”

He smiled shyly, opening the box to show her the ring.

It was a simple white gold band, with a princess-cut white diamond in its center. Smaller pink diamonds had been set on each side of the bigger one.

It was gorgeous.

“Oh, Adrien,” she whispered, looking at the ring and at his anxious face alternatively. “I… I couldn’t, this is too much…”

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief, before plucking the ring out of the box. “I’ve been dreaming of this ring on your finger for the past ten years, Bug. Please indulge me.”

Marinette held up her hand, choking back on a sob. “Adrien… I… I don’t even have words…”

“You don’t need words, Mari,” Adrien answered, his own voice thick with emotion. “I want to build a life with you. I want this.”

Marinette giggled through the tears freely spilling over her cheeks. “I want it too, Adrien. I want everything with you.”

Adrien slid the ring onto her finger, his face tight with anxiety. It wasn’t a perfect fit, it was slightly too large for her slender fingers, but not enough that it’d need an immediate resizing. It wouldn’t slip or fall off until they’d take the ring to a jeweler for a refitting, it just felt slightly odd.

Marinette looked at the ring on her finger, swallowing thickly. “Are… are you sure about this?”

“About you wearing my mother’s ring or about marrying you? Because either way, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” He pressed a soft kiss against her lips, making her insides melt.

Tikki broke the moment though, zooming out of her hiding place to carefully inspect the ring on her charge’s finger, “This is beautiful, Adrien! So romantic!”

“Meh. It’s a rock fitting for my kitten’s mate. I’m proud of you, kid,” Plagg added as nonchalantly as he could, but there was a spark in his eye.

Marinette giggled and held her hand out so both kwamis could see it well. When all the fussing and the congratulating was done, Adrien smiled. “Should we break the news to your parents now, princess?”

Marinette grinned at him widely. “Are you ready for Tom Dupain’s famous murderous hugs?”

Adrien smiled. “Anything if it means being with you.”

What neither of them had expected, though, what was as soon as they walked into the bakery, Sabine let out a loud shriek. “ _TOM_ !” she all but screamed in the thankfully empty shop. “ _THEY FINALLY DID IT!_ ”

Before either of them could react, Tom Dupain barrelled down into the bakery, snatching his daughter’s hand up and commenting loudly, “They did, Sabine! They _really_ did! Finally!”

Marinette could see Adrien’s cheek take an interesting shade of red, and could feel her own match on par. “Is there any use trying to deny it?” she tried weakly, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt by then.

“Please,” her mother countered, not even bothering to look up, “your father and I have been waiting for years for a ring to appear on that finger. It’s about time Adrien lawfully becomes our son.”

Both Marinette and Adrien blanched upon hearing those words. “What… what do you mean?” Marinette stammered, blushing even deeper.

“Only that I’m happy you too stopped trying to deny the obvious, honey. Now, the roast should be done any minute upstairs, Marbear, do you mind checking on it for me?” Sabine replied, her voice almost too sweet. “Adrien, would you put those plates on the table please, son?”

Adrien smiled, taking the stack of plates from Sabine’s hands. He happily set them on the table, blissfully ignoring his future in-law less than subtle coos until his future mother-in-law followed him upstairs and said happily, “So, now you two are finally engaged, when are you going to give me long overdue grandchildren?”

Marinette choked on the tea she had just poured herself, Adrien on his spit.

Sabine Cheng had a content smile on her face for the remaining of the night.


	36. Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********WARNING: EXPLICIT SCENE AHEAD****************

If Adrien had learned anything during the past few years, it was that there was a limited amount of time they could hide anything from Alya Césaire.

The fact that Sabine and Tom had seen right through them within minutes of the ring being on Marinette’s finger had been unsettling enough on its own.

But now, having Alya basically spamming Marinette’s phone at every hour begging for updates on the official state of their relationship was an entire new level of harassment.

Marinette had let it slip to her best friend that they had extraordinary gone to dinner with her parents on a Monday, and it only fueled Alya’s curious onslaught of messages, making them both glad that Marinette had skipped school that day in order to get her stitches removed.

So when the redhead threatened to unleash her wrath unless they’d come to dinner that Tuesday night, Adrien playfully gave in, figuring no harm could come out of it.

What a naive fool had he been.

The second they stepped over Alya and Nino’s threshold, it what clear they had entered the dragon’s den.

As soon as they crossed the door, Alya cornered them both in her kitchen, eyeing them carefully. “Okay, drop the act, now. What’s going on here, guys?” she asked, the way she usually did when she was interviewing secretive guests. “Marinette, why the hell was Adrien in your room at 5 a.m.? And more than that, why aren’t any of you denying it?”

Somehow, neither Adrien nor Marinette had to answer before Alya visibly relaxed, smiling at her friends with a warm expression. “So, this is it, then? You guys are finally together?”

Before either Marinette or Adrien could reply, Nino came to their rescue. “Don’t mind her, she’s been waiting all day to pull that little number on you. Dinner’s about to be ready, and then, we’ll want details.”

Dinner happened to be delicious, and the chatter, entertaining.

“So,” Nino eventually said, leaning back in his chair, “you two are _finally_ a thing?”

Adrien waved his fork nonchalantly, shrugging. “What gave it away? The non-existent hand holding or the very intimate shoulder-to-shoulder contact?”

“Oi, sunshine,” Alya said with a playful smirk. “Don’t go all sassy on us. That’s my job.”

Adrien held up his hands in surrender, and Alya laughed, before pressing on, “So, when did you two start dating?”

“We never confirmed that we were?” Marinette said, and Adrien saw Alya’s eyes stare at her left hand.

“ _Au contraire_ , girl,” the redhead replied. “Your man here pretty much confirmed it, and I know for a fact that you _never_ wear rings. Especially not on _that_ finger. Show me that rock, Mari.”

Marinette sighed mockingly, a playful gleam in her eyes, and she held up her hand so Alya could properly examine Adrien’s mother ring.

“Way to go, bro,” Nino cheered. “You finally put a ring on it! Took you long enough.”

Adrien felt his cheeks grow hot with a fiery blush. “We _literally_ just started dating, Nino.”

“That you did,” Alya smiled. “So, tell us. When did you two make it official at long last?”

Marinette looked at Adrien with a blinding smile, and she reached over to grab his hand. “At the hospital,” she replied honestly. “What happened that night on the bridge really shook me. Watching him get injured like this… I came too close to losing him without him knowing how I felt about him, about what should have been long ago.”

 _Knowing_ this and hearing it from her lips were two very different things, and Adrien felt his heart swell with affection toward his lady. He, too, had been terrified on that bridge, terrified he’d lose her.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, but I think the incident on the bridge did you two a lot of good,” Nino said with a fond smile. “Adrien getting stabbed wasn’t what any of us wanted, but I think it forced you both out of your comfort zone, you know? It made you guys share unsaid words and emotion that the two of you needed out in the open. I’m really happy for the two of you.”

Alya reached over and placed her hand on Nino’s, smiling at their friends warmly. “We both are. I know Nino and I have been bugging you guys with this the past few years, but we both honestly just wanted to make sure you two would be happy. You two care so much about each other, it was painful to see you guys trying to deny what everyone else knew was there. We love you two deeply, and you’ve both been through so much that we just wanted you guys to be happy.”

“Sorry for it turning so sappy, dudes,” Nino chuckled softly.

Adrien smiled at their best friends, his thumb gently stroking the side of Marinette’s hand. “Don’t be. If anything, we should thank you. You guys have always been there for us through hard times, and we both really appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

“Adrien’s right,” Marinette added, looking at him with a tender expression. “You guys, and my parents, I always knew I could count on you. I love you guys more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for being amazing friends.”

“And fiancé,” Adrien teased, only to receive a playful swat on the shoulder.

“And fiancé,” Marinette agreed, the lighter topic dissolving the heavy emotions swirling in the room, only leaving the relief of having let it out.

Alya chuckled, “How did that happen anyway? Marinette told you she loves you and you proposed on the spot?”

“I proposed to him,” Marinette admitted, an adorable blush gracing her cheeks. “After our first kiss. I don’t know, it just felt… right?”

Nino took a bite of pasta, shaking his head. “Then again, you guys never did anything like anyone else. Why would your marriage be any different?”

Adrien burst out laughing, and Marinette grinned. “Now,” she announced, “let’s finish this delicious dinner so I can kick everyone’s ass at some game.”

In theory, Adrien was on board with his fiancée’s plans for the evening.

Though, Marinette obviously had other plans in mind.

If it hadn’t been for Marinette fingers shamelessly grazing his thigh under the tablecloth from time to time, Adrien would’ve had a really nice evening.

Instead of lusting after his beautiful fiancée like a hormonal teenager.

But then there was the fact that he and Marinette hadn’t gotten intimate yet.

And the fact her fingers lingering on his thigh were driving him crazy at the most inopportune times.

She kept the charade up through dinner, and through the evening, innocently brushing against the fabric of his pants and flashing him gentle smiles all through the _Cards Against Humanity_ game that followed.

It wasn’t until they were both away from prying eyes, into the shelter of his car, that Adrien allowed himself to speak up, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the road ahead of them. “Marinette…” he growled warningly as her fingers slid up his thigh once again. “Keep this up and we’re going to end the evening wrapped around a lamppost.”

She giggled in a way that really should’ve been labeled as indecent, but she managed to keep her hands to herself for the remaining of the drive home. He pulled over in his parking spot and it took him all of his self-control and then some to not just throw her over his shoulder unceremoniously, carrying her to his bed and have his way with her.

His breathing ragged with want, he was faintly aware of taking her hand into his and leading her to the elevator in a half-dazed mind.

The second the elevator’s doors closed behind them, though, Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard and hungrily.

Their lips moved together into a sweet and longing kiss, the kind of kiss that made every past one pale in comparison. Burning with a need that had brewed for a decade already, Marinette knotted her fists in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer and closer, and suddenly she was everywhere. Her scent, her warmth, her touch, nothing existed outside the tsunami of new sensations she was unleashing on his shivering body.

She deepened the kiss, urgently, feverishly, and Adrien knew right that second that he was in deep trouble, that he could never get enough of that sweet ambrosia.

His fingers gently clawed at her hips, exploring the exposed patch of skin between her t-shirt and her shorts. She let out a throaty moan against his lips, revelling into the warmth of his body pressed against hers. Her nails grazed his scalp, tugging on his soft locks, holding him against her lips like he was her oxygen and she was drowning.

The shrill beep of the elevator’s doors opening startled them out of their frenzied embrace, and they both reconnected with reality long enough to stumble to their apartment door. Adrien opened the door with unsteady hands, and as soon as it closed behind them he snaked his arms around her waist and pressed her against the wall, lining up his body with hers.

Unbeknownst to them, a gagging Plagg and a giggling Tikki zoomed out of their hiding places as fast as if they had been on fire, taking shelter elsewhere in the apartment. Neither of them wanted to be a witness to their charges heated embrace.

Not noticing a thing, Adrien’s fingers went around the back of her neck, holding her close, and he felt her hands clinging to his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. Desperate to feel the warmth of her skin, Adrien swiftly pulled both of their shirts over their heads. Marinette chased his lips, tiptoeing against the wall.

“I… Ah- Mari…” Adrien barely managed to choke out, the sensation of her teeth grazing down his jawline sending chills down his spine.

She giggled again, a sound so sinful he could swear he felt weak in the knees hearing it. “What is it, kitten?”

An open-mouthed kiss laid on the hollow of his throat made his answer disappear in an unintelligible gurgle. She nipped and bit at his collarbone, working her way to the lobe of his ear. Her fingers were buried in the nape of his neck, and Adrien felt like his knees would give up under him at any given time.

“Mari… stop… I won’t… ah- I… I won’t be able to stop if you keep this up…”

She giggled once more - honestly, how was this _not_ against the law? - and Adrien felt a raw shot of desire pool in his gut. Her teeth tugged lightly on his earlobe, and she whispered in his ear, in a husky tone that turned him into jelly in her hands, “Who said anything about stopping?”

He felt her hand sneak between their intertwined bodies, palming the less and less subtle bulge in front of him. His breathing ragged with want, Adrien said in a husky whisper, “I waited ten- ah! years… to… kiss you… I can wait- Mari!”

She pressed herself against him, both of her hands reaching in her back to unclasp her bra. “Good for you,” she answered in a low, sultry voice Adrien was pretty sure was going to kill him sooner rather than later. “I’ve wanted this for _ten frickin years._ Be yours, be one with you, feel you inside me. I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

A needy whimper escaped his lips, and when she pressed her bare breasts against his naked chest, he knew she had won. Years of longing for her, months of teasing glimpses of her exiting the shower, of tantalizing patches of skin inadvertently put on display before his sinful eyes came crashing back on him all at once. She was right there, in his arms, willing and wanting, and only a fool would refuse her what she so obviously wanted.

He took advantage of her arms laced around his necks and lifted her up effortlessly, her legs wrapping themselves around his waist out of their own volition. Her petite figure weighted next to nothing into his muscular arms, and he walked to her bedroom effortlessly, their lips never leaving each other’s.

They tumbled onto her bed in a messy tangle of limbs and kisses, his lips actively seeking every single inch of skin they could reach. He worshipped her throat, paid his tribute reverently to her breasts, marked his territory down her abdomen, lavished her thighs with undivided attention.

She was left little more than a writhing mess under him from his ministrations, moaning and pleading for more, words of love spilling from her mouth unbidden. Adrien smirked, diving back for another taste of her lips. “I love you, Marinette. My beautiful princess.”

She beamed at him through the haze of her desire, the extent of her feelings for him written clear as day on her perfect features. Marinette sought his lips, kissing him passionately, all restraint long forgotten. “I’m yours,” she breathed against his mouth in a muffled voice, before kissing him again.

“Mine,” Adrien growled, his hand dipping between her thighs, teasingly caressing her folds in an enticing manner over the fabric of her shorts.

She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she clung to him for dear life. Adrien lightly kissed the hollow of her throat, whispering hoarsely, “Is this… okay?”

“More than okay,” she answered breathlessly as his fingers tugged at the hem of her shorts, pulling them down her perfect legs in one swift motion, bringing her panties along with them.

Adrien pulled back a little, taking in her beauty, her perfection. It finally was real, the image that had haunted his dreams for the past decade, that had fueled his fantasies ever since he was fifteen. And gosh had he underestimated how beautiful she would look naked under him, looking up at him with raw desire written all over her magnificent blue eyes, how sweet her skin would taste under his lips, how intoxicating her touch would feel. Her body was calling to him like a siren’s song, and he couldn’t restrain himself anymore.

He went back, his lips kissing every inch of uncharted skin he had uncovered, his fingers mapping every single of her curves, slowly working their way toward her core. Marinette let out a frustrated sigh, tugging on his hair to bring his lips to hers once more. Ignoring the best he could his skyrocketing nerves, Adrien reached between her thighs at last, experimentally toying with the wetness, intently watching her reactions.

He was determined to make up his lack of experience to her by devoting his entire being to her pleasure, and he found her sensitive bundle of nerves as soon as he could, tentatively rubbing his knuckle on it. Marinette’s hips buckled under him at the unexpected motion, and he chuckled tenderly, muffling her airy moan with a kiss.

“You’re beautiful like this, my lady,” he breathed in her ear, spreading her arousal around her entrance with a finger, his thumb still focused on the small bud that had ripped such delicious sounds from her.

Marinette whimpered against his collarbone, shivering within his embrace. “More… ah! Please, Ad- Adrien!”

Still watching every single of her breaths, Adrien gently pushed a finger inside her, pumping it tentatively in and out of her heated sex. She tensed slightly at the unfamiliar sensation, but he added a second digit when he felt her relax under his loving assault. He tenderly worked her up, trying to make the experience as pleasant as he could for her.

His pants quickly becoming painfully tight on his erected sex, Adrien almost sighed with relief when Marinette, now a lovely shade of red, half-moaned, “I want you… Adrien… Please, I want you inside me.”

He all but jumped out of the remaining of his clothes, positioning himself between her thighs with an enquiring look. “Okay?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, planting an open-mouthed kiss on his lips. “Please, I want to feel you.”

“I love you,” he whispered in between kissed, pressing his length into her ever so carefully, peppering small kisses all over her face, her throat and her shoulders.

She closed her eyes, clinging to his shoulders almost desperately. “I… I love you-” she choked out hoarsely as Adrien finally sheathed himself fully inside of her. Her fingers were digging almost painfully into his skin, and while the sensation of her warmth around his erection was overwhelming, he couldn't help but notice how tense she was into his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, placing a feather-light kiss on her eyelids.

Marinette smiled under him, and suddenly all he could see was blue. Loving, adoring blue, looking at him almost reverently. “It’s odd,” she breathed, “but not painful. Could… could you try moving maybe?”

Adrien nodded, his heart playing trampoline in his chest. He reached down for a sloppy kiss and pulled back slightly before thrusting back into her, tearing a needy whimper from her lips. He repeated the motion, focusing on what seemed to provoke those lovely sounds, trying to ignore the almost unbearable pleasure pooling up in his gut just to hear more of her moans, of her beggings.

He found a pleasurable rhythm, moving back and forth between her legs until her nails began to claw at the skin of his back and she clenched around him almost painfully.

“Right there, Adrien, oh gosh, I’m almost there.” Words were spilling from her lips unbidden, seemingly uncontrollably, and he felt ecstasy quickly washing over him. He reached between their heated body, teasing her sensitive bud of nerves with the tip of his fingers.

She mewled into their messy kiss and his hips bucked into hers, his rhythm suddenly going haywire. Their caresses got frantic, and there was nothing more existing outside of her, her warmth everywhere around him, her moans filling his ears, her touch igniting his skin.

He tipped over the edge into white-hot oblivion as he felt her clench tight around him, and suddenly they were only a mess of writhing limbs and husky kisses.

Adrien rolled on his side, carefully avoiding to crush her, and pulled her to his chest, trying to regain his breath. “Are you okay?”

She lifted half-lidded eyes toward him, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. “I’m perfect. I- This was perfect, Adrien, I love you so much my sweet, sweet kitty.”

Throat tight with the intense emotions washing over him, Adrien barely managed to plant a soft peck on the crown of her head, and as they both drifted to sleep, a single thought was playing in his mind on repeat.

“I’m _never_ letting you go now.”

In between his bliss, he faintly heard Marinette ask, “Can… Can I move in with you, Adrien?”

He chuckled softly. “Huh? We’ve been living together for over two years, princess.”

“No,” Marinette answered. “I want the real deal. No more separate bedrooms, no more separate beds. I want to sleep in the same bed every night, I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want my toothbrush next to yours in our bathroom, and I want to shove your undies aside to make room for mine.”

Adrien smiled against the crown of her head.

“I’d like nothing more, Bug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustrated by the amazing Raydara12 (BBWoulfC)


	37. Okay

Teasing Adrien all evening and jumping his bones the second they had reached home had been a spur of the moment thing.

She had fantasized for  _ years  _ about how having sex with him would feel.

She had ultimately caved under the weight of her want, of how much she wanted to be one with him at long last.

And waking up naked, curled up against his skin like this, she could quickly see herself becoming addicted to  _ more _ than simply waking up with him.

It felt right, being bared for his eyes only, being at her most vulnerable in front of him.

As if he was sensing that she was awake, Adrien shifted beside her and cracked one eye open. “Morning, love. How are we feeling?”

“Dreading going back to school,” Marinette answered truthfully, pressing herself against his chest. “Is it bad that I kinda want to stay right here forever?”

Adrien chuckled softly. “But if you do, you’ll never become the amazing designer you’re destined to be. Hop in the shower, princess, I’ll fix the breakfast.”

It took a few hugs and kisses, but Adrien eventually managed to usher Marinette into the shower. She let the water slowly wake up her deliciously sore muscles.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked when she stepped out of the shower. “It’s a huge step you took with Adrien last night, and some bugs have complained about being sore the next day.”

Marinette blushed, shaking her head at her kwami. “I’m fine, Tikki. I  _ am  _ sore, but it’s a  _ good  _ sore, does it make sense?”

Tikki laughed. “More than you’d think, Marinette. You forget I’m thousands of years old. I’ve seen and heard many things.”

When Marinette finally emerged from his bathroom roughly fifteen minutes later, enough time for the blush to subdue to a level attributable to the shower, fresh waffles were waiting for her on the dining table.

“How in the world did you manage to cook all of this under twenty minutes?” she asked her fiancé, pouring a hefty amount of syrup on her plate.

“I helped him!” Plagg commented proudly, mouth full of cheese.

Adrien chuckled as he finished prepping some strawberries. “Actually, I had made the batter yesterday morning before you came back from school. All I had left to do was cook them, easy peasy. Now eat up, you’ll need strengths to fend off all of your classmates.”

“Ugh,” Marinette groaned. “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?”

He smiled at her softly, placing a quick peck on her forehead. “Everything will be fine. You’re stronger than that.”

“You should go Marinette. Prove them you have nothing to be ashamed of,” Tikki agreed.

Plagg looked up from his cheese long enough to mumble, “I’m more than able to watch over my charge for us two, princess. Go prove them all wrong.” 

She let out a long sigh, looking at her odd family, composed of a lovely, goofy man and two thousand-years-old deities. “I guess you’re right. I’ll see you all for dinner?”

This time, Adrien kissed her properly. “I’ll be waiting, princess. Now go and prove them all they’re wrong about what can bring Marinette Dupain-Cheng down.”

“Hey Adrien,” she heard Plagg ask on her way out. “Could Tikki and I get the spare room? So we don’t have to suffer through your disgusting mating rituals next time?”

Adrien’s groan had Marinette giggle all the way to school.

* * *

Turned out, Adrien had been right.

The excitation about Mark’s imprisonment had worn off already, and it seemed nobody, at least on campus, knew he had claimed to be attacked by none other than Chat Noir. She heard some whispers about Chat Noir and Ladybug’s unexpected return on her way to class, and she guessed she had been too upset to pay attention to it the day prior. 

It was the most popular topic amongst her fellow students, though. Word was quickly going around the campus about how many girls, and even some boys, who were speaking up about harassers.

Marinette was mostly left to her own devices as a result, save for a younger girl shyly thanking her for having the courage to report Mark. It was a nice change, being able to follow her lesson without being reminded all the time of what her former friend had done to her and Adrien.

When the class came to an end, though, her teacher called her to the front, bringing unwanted attention upon herself.

She waited until the amphitheater was mostly empty before she shyly made her way to the front. “You wanted to see me, Madame?”

Madame Jones smiled at her, warmth and concern emanating out of her. “I did. I only wanted to make sure you are okay, Marinette. How is your arm?”

“It’s mostly fine,” Marinette answered truthfully. “It stills stings sometimes, especially when my fiancé disinfects it, but otherwise I’m okay.”

“Speaking of,” her teacher said gently. “We had a faculty meeting this morning. The headmaster wanted me to tell you that you don’t have to worry about Monsieur Taylor being on school grounds. Given his unacceptable behaviour toward you and the restraining orders that will be in function once he’s released from jail, he has been unanimously voted to be suspended from our institution. Our priority is to ensure that  _ you _ feel safe on campus.”

Marinette could feel her eyes wet with grateful tears upon hearing those words. “Thank you, Madame Jones,” she weakly choked out. “It… It really means a lot to me.”

“It’s only normal, Marinette,” her teacher answered. “This is quite an extraordinary situation, but in no case should you be punished for who your heart chooses to love. Monsieur Taylor’s inability to accept that your affections laid elsewhere unfortunately led to his name and his fashion career to be compromised, but you should never feel responsible for it. You aren’t to blame in any way. He broke the school code of conduct by attacking another student, and others have started to come forward to make statements regarding his conduct as well. We felt that was sufficient reason to enact a suspension, and will reassess the case when formal charges are laid.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” Marinette uttered again, before excusing herself from the room.

As if her world hadn’t been shaken enough yet, she came home to a sweaty Adrien, panting from moving stuff and furniture all day.

“What have you done, silly kitty?” she asked fondly, burying her fingers in his scalp as she reached forward to plant a kiss on his lips.

Adrien laughed, returning the kiss with mirth in his eyes. “I only obliged my lady’s wishes. You said you wanted to move in with me yesterday.”

“I helped him all day!” Plagg crooned. “I’m going to need hefty amounts of Camembert to survive this level of exhaustion!”

“You haven’t…” Marinette trailed off, instantly guessing that yes, Adrien had (because clearly Plagg hadn’t lifted a paw).

And indeed, he had.

He had moved all of her stuff into his own bedroom, hanging her clothes beside his in his closet and putting her toothbrush beside his in his bathroom, just like she had wanted to. 

True to his word, he had also switched their mattresses, hers being the most comfortable out of the two.

Her old bedroom was now bare, devoid of any personality.

Everything that made her room hers had been moved into Adrien’s room, making his room  _ theirs. _

Making her old room look like a plain, boring guest room again.

Just like it was two years prior.

Eyes watering, Marinette looked at Adrien. “Really? You moved all of my stuff all by yourself? But… what about my undies? Oh my gosh, did you find my whips and leashes?”

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t manage to keep a straight face long enough in front of Adrien’s horrified expression. Her facade promptly crumbled, and she burst out laughing, reassuring her silly kitty that no, she wasn’t really upset, and no, there wasn’t any kinky sex toys to find.

“Really,” he said. “I happen to fully agree with you. It’s ridiculous to have separate bedrooms when we sleep together every night anyway. And I love having you near.”

Marinette beamed at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Ten years.

Ten years she had denied herself that simple pleasure.

Being able to touch him freely.

To love him freely.

She pressed a soft kiss against his lips, a smile blooming on hers.

“Let’s eat whatever you made for dinner,” Marinette said, grinning. “And then, we’ll watch a movie and cuddle the hell out of each other.”

They ended up talking through the movie Adrien had pulled up on their on-demand service, and when they eventually moved their making-out to their bed, it felt new and special like they were teenagers again.

When they made love that night, it was soft and tender, almost lazy in some aspects. Marinette could feel Adrien’s care and love through every slow thrust, and she lost herself in his touch.

She loved that man.

She loved him more than anything and would make sure he knew it until his dying day.

* * *

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.

Mark had been convicted for assault on Adrien and attempted assault on Marinette, but the superficial injuries they had both suffered added to his (according to the judge) apparent mental impairment claiming he had stabbed Chat Noir and not Adrien had meant ridiculous jail time for him, a matter of mere months.

Thankfully, nobody in the courtroom had seemingly given credit to Mark’s accusations toward Chat Noir, and word about it hadn’t really gotten out. The most popular theory among the few that knew was that Chat Noir had heard about the assault allegations and had promptly come back with Ladybug from wherever they were retiring to make sure they weren’t dealing with another Copycat.

Still, Mark was being punished for his actions, and that’s all Marinette wanted.

During those weeks, she didn’t think it would humanly be possible to grow even closer than she already was to Adrien. But life had surprises under its belt for both of them. Their relationship was blossoming into something beautiful, something even greater than it was to begin with.

Chloe’s son’s second birthday party came creeping up on them, and before she knew it, Adrien was wrapping her into a hug in their kitchen, watching her carefully wrap Carlisle’s gift.

Adrien smiled as he saw Marinette hunched over the colorful package, Tikki holding up the ribbons.

She straightened up, looking at him with bright eyes. “I’m done wrapping Chloe’s son birthday gift. You’re sure I didn’t mess up? I don’t want Chloe to go all momzilla on me because I bought a gift that is so typically masculine.”

He chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder. How much he loved her knew no limit. “It’s gonna be fine. Carlisle  _ is  _ a boy, and Chloe knows that. And boys love cars and trucks. Our gigantic firetruck is going to make him squeal with delight, and he’ll probably play with it for a few years.”

Marinette giggled, spinning in his arms to cup his cheek tenderly. “True. How could I forget that you, handsome Adrien Agreste, were once a little boy?”

“I have changed a lot since then, I don’t blame you,” Adrien chuckled. “Grew up a few inches, put on a little weight. Even picked up a lovely fiancée along the way, you would like her!” he teased, a playful gleam in his eyes.

Marinette sighed playfully, resting her forehead in the crook of his neck. “Is that so, kitty? Now, get change into more appropriate for a royalty toddler birthday clothes before we run late and Chloe sends a search party for us.”

Adrien chuckled. “She’s so enthralled in the festivities preparation, she probably wouldn’t even notice if we don’t show up at all.”

“Wanna bet on that, kitty?”

Somehow, the idea of Chloe sending an entire search party to track him down if he failed to show up to her only son’s birthday party suddenly seem less silly.

Sure, motherhood had changed Chloe a lot, and in more good ways than bad.

But he wasn’t quite ready to taunt the devil uselessly.

“Alright,” he sighed. “You win. I’m gonna change. Are you ready to leave?”

She gestured to her flawless outfit and perfect makeup, grinning. “I’m ready to roll, captain. Only had that gift to wrap left, and I think I managed.”

Indeed, the package was pretty as a button. A big, square box wrapped in a bright yellow and firetruck red paper, with a royal blue bow on it. An electric green tag was identifying the recipient of the gift, not that there was going to be many candidates once they would get there.

_ To: Carlisle Bourgeois-Raincomprix _ _   
_ _ From: Uncle Adrien and Auntie Marinette _

It had taken a little convincing on Adrien’s part to have Marinette write her name beside his on the tag, but his ultimate argument had left her speechless.

“ _ We’re going to get married, Marinette, _ ” he had said. “ _ We come as a pair from now on, whether you like it or not.” _

Failing to come forward with a viable argument against his, Marinette had ultimately caved in.

Before Adrien could answer, though, he brought up a hand to caress her cheek. “I love you, Marinette. I love you  _ so  _ much.”

Marinette was overwhelmed by his sudden declaration. And three words couldn’t convey how much she loved him too, the kiss she pressed on his lips at this precise moment was easily worth a thousand words.

* * *

When they walked into Chloe’s son birthday party, hand in hand, Adrien was suddenly assaulted by the bright colors surrounding them.

Chloe had gone with a fairytale theme, probably taking advantage of the fact that her two-year-old couldn’t choose for himself yet. There were kids running all over the place, each of them either dressed into princes or princesses.

As soon as they walked into the reception room, Carlisle launched himself at Marinette’s calves, hugging her tightly. “Auntie Mawi!” he cooed happily, and Adrien his heart waver in his chest.

Because Marinette shoved the box into Adrien’s hands and kneeled to Carlisle’s leve with open arms, smiling at him warmly. “Hello there, birthday boy! How are you this wonderful day? What is it, Carlisle? What do you need?”

“I want to dance with you, you’re pwetty,” Carlisle replied honestly.

And Adrien stayed there, staring hopelessly at the odd pair walking away from him to undulate awkwardly on the dancefloor. 

A few songs passed before Chloe playfully elbowed Adrien, flashing a knowing grin his way. “She’s going to make an amazing mother someday,” she said, linking her arm with his.

Adrien stared at her like a deer in headlights, stammering, “What… what do you mean? Carlisle isn’t a diffic…”

“Oh please, Adrien,” Chloe scoffed. “Carlisle is the very definition of a spoiled brat. And I have no one to blame for it but me. But here, your beloved Marinette is keeping up with his whims without batting an eye. She’s going to be a wonderful mother. She has so much love to give. If you let her get away, I’m going to end you.”

Heat pooled in Adrien’s gut.

Having children with Marinette? What a dream.

He could already envision it. Mini-Adriens and Mini-Marinettes running around their apartment, mini versions of themselves only wanting to be loved by their parents. 

Tokens of their love.

Tokens of their history.

Doubt crept up his throat when his eyes fell on Chloe’s father. Could  _ he  _ be a good father? Chloe’s parental figure had taught her to spoil your children, and she was repeating the pattern. With Gabriel Agreste as his only parent, what kind of father would Adrien be?

What kind of father  _ could  _ he be?

Marinette suddenly looked at him from where she was dancing with Carlisle, tears of mirth pooling at the corner of her eyes.

And the smile she flashed him as she danced with an elated two-years-old made his insides melt.

It was a smile so pure, so genuine, that he was convinced they somehow would be okay, that they could do anything together.

A smile that made him fall in love with her all over again.


	38. Enthusiasm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning : Explicit content

They ended up spending a really nice afternoon at the Grand Paris.

Marinette got reeled in the treasure hunt by a very eager Carlisle, who didn’t quite understood the hints from the height of his two-years-old, but compensated by a healthy dose of enthusiasm.

The older kids, children of friends and relatives of Chloe, were having a blast, running from hint to hint laughing and cooing over the cuteness of Carlisle trying to follow them.

Simon Says ended up being hilarious, Adrien purposely giving confusing directions to the group of eager kids, and the poor birthday boy obeying half of them whether he was supposed to or not. 

And if Carlisle always found a vacant chair during musical chairs, Marinette had no involvement in it, at all.

It was nice, Marinette realized, being silly and childish and just enjoying an afternoon of play instead of work. 

Gifts were opened, and just as Adrien had predicted, Carlisle was head over heels over the fire truck big enough for him to ride it, and it even earned her a loud and wet peck on the cheek from the excited toddler.

It wasn’t until the poor boy fell asleep face-first in his birthday cake that Marinette considered going home. She easily tracked down Adrien, busy reading a story to a bunch of sleepy kids, and let him finish his fairytale before crouching beside him. “Ready to go home, Prince Adrien?”

He beamed at her, stretching his long legs in front of him. She held her hand out to him, helping him to his feet. “Let’s find Chloe and Sabrina,” Adrien said, smiling warmly, “So we can excuse ourselves.”

Turned out, Sabrina was cradling an exhausted boy, a fond smile on her face, while Chloe was trying to salvage his birthday clothes from the cake”s merciless onslaught. 

“We’re gonna head home, Chlo, is that okay with you?” Adrien announced softly, patting her on the back.

She spun around, smiling at them both warmly. “Of course, thanks a lot for coming, and playing with Carlisle like you did. He adores both of you, you know.”

“We don’t see him that often, though,” Marinette pointed out. “I was surprised the adorable little man could even remember me.”

Sabrina giggled, her eyes still trained on the child sleeping in her arms. “You made quite an impression, Marinette. Most adults barely acknowledge a child that isn’t theirs unless they have to. You talk to him, you play with him. Of course, he’s going to remember you. He loves Adrien a lot too, constantly asking when Uncle Adrien is going to come back and wrestle with him.”

They both burst out laughing at that, and Marinette replied softly, “We should have dinner sometime soon.”

“Of course!” Chloe brightened. “I’ll text you guys and try to organize something.” She planted a peck on both of Adrien’s cheeks. “You, drive safe,” she told him, before moving to Marinette, kissing her cheeks in turn. “And you,” she resumed, “take care of that dork for me, will you?”

“Hey!” Adrien tried to protest, but the clear laughter coming from Marinette’s lips interrupted him.

“Don’t worry, Chloe, if I can teach him how to hand stitch without him losing any fingers in the process, I can take care of him just fine.”

Walking to the car, Adrien wrapped his arm around Marinette’s waist, resting his hand on her hip. “This was nice,” he simply said, and she nodded, remnants of a smile gracing her lips.

“It was. Carlisle is really a fun kid to be around.”

There was a comfortable moment of silence while Adrien opened the car door for her and rounded the car to slip on driver’s seat.

“Do you want that?” he asked softly, his voice earnest.

Marinette looked at him, surprised.

She knew that the family topic was a sensitive one, given his reaction every time his father was brought up. He always closed up, refusing to even brush the topic. She hadn’t planned on bringing it up before the wedding, and definitely not before he had dealt with what he liked to call his “no-daddy issues”. And even less after they had spent a really nice day at the Grand Paris with his childhood friend and her adorable son.

“I do,” she replied simply, wrapping her hand around his on the gear shaft. “But not before I graduate, and not before you are ready too.”

“I’ve always wanted a large family,” Adrien replied as he put the car into motion. “Being an only kid… well, you were one too, so you might feel the same way, but to me, it always felt lonely. I used to dream of having siblings. But… I don’t know if I can be… Nah, forget it.”

After over ten years of knowing each other, two and a half of which they were living together and nearly five months of dating, Marinette didn’t think it would be possible anymore for Adrien to make her heart stutter with mere words.

But it did.

Knowing that he, too, wanted children, filled her stomach with butterflies.

Building a family with him, building a future for them was a dream came true for her. And, since he brought it up, she could gently probe to see what he thought about it.

“I want that too, whenever you are ready” she said, her thumb grazing the side of his hand. “When I was fifteen, I used to dream of having three kids with you. I had even named them.”

Tikki poked her head out of Marinette’s purse, giggling, “Don’t forget the hamster, Marinette!”

Adrien could only laugh, his eyes on the road, as Plagg made sounds of disgust. “I can’t guarantee I won’t eat it if you bring a rodent into our house,” he threatened, prompting another bout of laughter from Marinette.

She was about to speak again when Adrien beat her to it. “And what were they, princess? The names you had chosen for our hypothetical babies?”

She could feel her cheeks and ears burning with a blush, but she had made her bed. Might as well lie in it. “Emma, Louis, and Hugo,” she replied.

“I like it,” Adrien answered, flashing her a quick smile before concentrating on the road again. “Hey, Mari. Just how tired are you exactly right now?”

The odd question caught her off-guard, and she stammered briefly before saying, “Not that much, why?”

“Can I treat you to dinner then? Nothing too fancy, seeing as we’re both wearing jeans, but I would like to take you out tonight.”

His voice was so earnest, his tone so gentle, that Marinette would’ve never been able to deny him this simple request even if she had wanted to. “Of course, minou. What did you have in mind?”

“How does pasta sounds to you, my lady?” 

“Yummy!” Marinette exclaimed, pulling a hearty laugh from Adrien. 

She was happy.  _ They _ were happy, for the most part.

With him, her life was right where she wanted it to be.

And together, they could do anything.

They  _ were _ Ladybug and Chat Noir, after all.

* * *

They ended up sharing half a pizza and some spaghetti in a small Italian pub, Adrien constantly switching from Italian to French relentlessly with their waiter. 

After a while, annoyed, Marinette ultimately sighed, “Could you please stick to a language I can understand?”

Adrien chuckled, scooting even closer to her in their booth. “Not a chance, love. Not when the impolite waiter is asking if this is a romantic date or if there’s a chance he could get your number.”

Marinette gasped loudly. “He didn’t dare!”

“Alas, he did, my lady!”

Their (delicious) meal eaten, Adrien and Marinette both stood up, and after quickly paying the addition, they both excused themselves into the cold evening.

“I hope you didn’t leave him a good tip,” Marinette pouted, burying her fingers in his hot palm.

“The bare minimum, princess,” Adrien assured her. “Just enough to be polite.”

Marinette giggled, turning to him. “You’re too kind. Most guys would’ve paid the bill. Period.”

“That’s just common decency. I was unhappy with him, so I refused to give him more money than what he earned.”

A sudden idea striking her, Marinette smiled wickedly. “Could we stop by a grocery store on our way home?”

He eyed her curiously. “Sure, but why?”

“You’ll see.”

* * *

Marinette dipped a strawberry into the melted chocolate, pushing it between Adrien’s expecting lips. He bit into it, his eyes lost in hers. “A4,” he said, a very Chat Noir smirk on his face.

“You’re cheating,” she stated, leaning over the game board to press a warm kiss against his lips. 

He chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “You lost that submarine fair and square, my lady,” he countered, “I’d suggest taking off your shirt.”

She pouted and pulled the garment over her head, wondering where he could have hidden his aircraft carrier and if she could sink it to get rid of his pants.

A few other ships sunken and clothes discarded later, the game was long forgotten.

Marinette had climbed into Adrien’s lap, laying hot kisses along the line of his jaw, burying her fingers into his blond mane. 

By that point, all Adrien had left on was his boxer briefs and his shirt, while she still had a sock on, along with her panties and her bra. She could feel his erection against her core, and it only fueled their kiss as she hungrily devoured his lips.

She dug her nails into his scalp lightly when his arms wrapped around her hips, holding her tightly against his chest, and she instinctively rolled her hips against his.

Adrien gasped into the kiss, and the sound allied with the delicious friction between her thighs sent shivers of pleasure through Marinette.

He groaned, his voice husky with lust, and he surged forward, laying them both on the floor of their living room. His shirt promptly tossed across the room, he dove back in, and suddenly he was everywhere.

Marinette got lost in his overwhelming touch, in the way he was worshiping her body. He was kissing, caressing and nipping every inch of her skin and it was driving her crazy.

Nothing existed outside of Adrien anymore.

Nothing else than his hot, addictive touch mattered anymore.

His trail of kisses and teeth grazes went further south, and Marinette let out a needy moan when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her hip, his hands unclasping the fastening of her bra. 

“Ugh, they’re at it again,” she could faintly hear Plagg complain in the kitchen, but she couldn’t care less.

Because now that the bra was no longer a problem, Adrien had focused his attention on her heated sex, pressing kisses and lapping at her folds through the fabric of her underwear.

Her hips bucked against his mouth, and he chuckled. “Someone’s quite eager,” he commented, grabbing the sides of her panties and dragging them down her legs. 

“I need you,” Marinette whimpered, her hand reaching between their bodies to grab his fully erect member through the fabric of his briefs.

Adrien moaned loudly, his head dropping to rest on her shoulder. After a few clumsy strokes on Marinette’s part, he dipped his hand between them, reaching for her aching core.

“Gosh, you’re so wet already,” he breathed in her ear, shooting a raw shot of desire through her entire body.

Her back arched against him when two fingers entered her, and she moaned loudly, “Our little game might’ve aroused me a little bit.”

She could hear his sharp intake of breath near her ear, and she faintly registered that he had at some point shimmied out of his underwear. A tiny, tiny part of her brain was briefly embarrassed by the fact that she still had one sock on, but it was quickly forgotten when Adrien asked her in a low, husky voice, “What do you want, Mari?”

“You,” she answered, locking eyes with him. “I want to feel you inside me.”

It was apparently the only thing he was waiting for, because the next thing she knew he was lining himself with her entrance, pushing himself inside carefully.

Her whimper of pleasure urged him on, and he started moving inside her, peppering kisses on her forehead, on her eyelids, on her lips. The way he was kissing her so reverently while making her feel that way like she was about to burst at the seams from the pleasure he was giving her, it almost sent her into white-hot oblivion right away.

But even if she was slowly losing her mind under him, Adrien kept relentlessly thrusting back and forth inside her, his hands cupping her face and his lips devouring hers in a passionate, messy kiss.

Her orgasm washed over her without warning.

It was hot, it was intense, and it was overwhelming.

Her entire being tensed in his arms as pleasure overpowered her like a tidal wave, her walls clenching around his throbbing cock uncontrollably.

Adrien moaned loudly, his rhythm faltering and his head burying into the crook of her neck. 

“I love you,” he whispered, before thrusting a final time into her and releasing himself inside her with a final grunt, his arms shaking.

He rolled on his side, gathering her in his arms. “I love you, Marinette,” he repeated, his voice hot in her ear.

“I love you too, Adrien. With all my heart,” she replied.

They were both making great progress, both as a couple as in individual therapy.

But doubts were still stifling him.

“You… really want to have kids with me?” he asked, voice earnest. 

Her smile almost blinded him.


	39. Overwhelming

Therapy was going well for both of them.

Marinette was slowly working through her own trust and abandonment issues slowly but steadily, and Adrien was talking out his issues about his controlling and part-time supervillain father, dissecting years of abuse and neglect with Dr. Postupaylo.

So she smiled at him softly as they were waiting, knowing how much effort Adrien was trying to put into building a healthy relationship.

Dr. Postupaylo had suggested on multiple occasions that he should confront his father about the wounds he had inflicted on his only son, and that it might be the best way to reassure himself that he was nothing like his father.

That’s how they both found themselves in the lobby of Paris’ most famous jail on a rainy day, trying to get their jittery nerves in check.

Neither Dr. Ellis nor Dr. Postupaylo had told them this would be easy.

But standing there, in the lobby of the prison, made Marinette feel like she somehow was the accomplice of some crime.

She couldn’t even imagine how Adrien felt.

This was his _ father, _ whom  _ he _ had put behind bars.

Who had hurt him time and time again.

Who, in her opinion, was nothing short of a selfish monster.

Multiple times, she had offered him to wait for him in the car, to go and face his father on his own if he didn’t want spectators.

He had insisted she’d be there, though. By his side, as the partners they were meant to be.

He wanted her with him.

And who was she to deny him that simple request?

So she sat beside him in the small and quaint meeting room, her hand resting on his knee as they were waiting for a handcuffed Gabriel Agreste to be brought into the room. 

And then, when Marinette thought her nerves couldn’t handle any more stress, the door opened to let in a sheepish looking Gabriel, staring at his handcuffed hands with his shoulders hunched.

He sat in front of them, his expression noticeably subdued. “You… you wanted to see me, Adrien? It’s… it’s been quite a long time. What… what did you want?”

It was like a dam broke inside Adrien upon hearing those words.

Years of neglect, years of feeling inadequate suddenly poured into the small room, unbidden. 

Adrien spat everything at a dizzying pace, like the words were burning his tongue.

How he had felt abandoned and uncared for by the way Gabriel had thrown himself into his work after his mother’s disappearance.

How he had always wanted to spend time with his friends instead of excelling at things like Mandarin and fencing.

How he hated his very own father for having terrorized Paris for so long.

How close he had come to kill his very own son.

By the time Adrien was done emptying his almost-twelve-years long emotion package, Gabriel was rendered speechless in front of him. Marinette tried her best to be as small as possible in her seat, her mind reeling. She felt like she was witnessing a car wreck and couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Do you know what’s worst,  _ Father _ ?” Adrien ultimately snarled, his fists clenched beside him. “It’s that all of this time, I thought that you loved me. But I was so obviously wrong that it hurts. A lot.”

Gabriel looked like a fish out of the water, staring at his son with his mouth agape. But Adrien wasn’t done with him, not yet. “Do you remember her,  _ Father _ ?” he said, nodding toward Marinette and spitting the word like it was acid. “This is your future daughter-in-law. And you nearly killed her that day, before I stopped you and shoved you in the back of a police car.”

“Adrien, you can’t possibly be saying that you two are-” Gabriel began, but right on cue, Tikki and Plagg came out of their hiding places, just peeking their heads out their respective charges.

Not enough for the security guard outside the room to notice anything odd.

But definitely enough for Gabriel’s eyes to widen in recognition. “It… It can’t be, Adrien, I’m so-”

“Don’t bother apologizing,” Adrien interrupted. “I won’t have any of it. Instead of chasing ghosts, you could have been there for me. You could have been a  _ father _ instead of treating me like a company asset. Marinette is one of the few people who ever  _ loved _ me for myself after mom disappeared. And you nearly took that away from me. You nearly took  _ her  _ away from me.”

Gabriel suddenly stood up, slamming his hands on the table, which prompted a security guard to storm into the room. “Don’t you dare talk to me like this, son. Everything I did, I did it for you! For our family! You don’t understand!”

Marinette felt Adrien go stiff beside her. “You’re a delusional fool,” he said, his voice hard. “What you did is inexcusable,  _ Father _ . You destroyed me. You almost killed a wonderful, caring and amazing woman. And you’re still trying to tell me you did it for the greater good?”

“Adrien, I-” Gabriel tried again, dissolving into a mess of tears.

“I don’t want your explanations,  _ Father _ . I just came to tell you how things are. I sold your company, sold the mansion. Marinette and I are living in a pretty apartment, and we are getting married sometime next year. And if you ever get out of here, which I sincerely wish you  _ won’t _ , I don’t want you in our life. No matter how much you think you were right in doing the atrocities you did.”

Adrien then stood up abruptly, taking Marinette by surprise. “Are you ready, my lady? Your parents wanted to discuss the wedding cake.”

Marinette followed him out of the room, leaving a violently shaking Gabriel behind, where Adrien suddenly paused, resting his back on the wall next to the meeting room. He looked drained, like he had just gone an entire week without sleep, and it made her heart ache for him. “Are you okay, minou?”

“Adrien!” they could hear Gabriel shout in the room they had just left, followed by the guard urging him to calm down.

“No,” Adrien answered sincerely, his green eyes swimming with unshed tears. “No, I’m not. But I think I will be, someday.”

She hugged him, fiercely, like there was no tomorrow.

Because what else can you do when the man you love more than life itself is hurting in an unspeakable manner?

The travel back to their apartment was uncomfortably silent.

Adrien drove with his eyes trained on the road, his jaw set and both of his hands on the steering wheel.

Marinette found herself missing him.

Over the course of the last few months, he had taken the habit of holding her hand on the gear shaft or gently holding her knee as he was driving.

But now, it was like he had retreated to his own bubble, unreachable.

It wasn’t until they had pulled up into their apartment building’s parking lot that he finally spoke what was on his mind. “Do you think I could ever be a good father?”

Marinette felt her heart break into her chest. Was he really doubting that? This wonderful, kind and devoted young man was wondering if he could be a good father someday? It was so ridiculous she almost wanted to laugh.

Instead, she reached over him, pulling his right hand into hers. “You’ll be the best, kitty. You have so much love to give, and you’re such a caring person that I’m not doubting that a single second. No matter how your own father was.”

“I… I think I needed to hear that,” Adrien said softly, finally meeting her gaze.

Plagg nuzzled against his charge’s cheek, kindness in his bright green eyes. “You’re a good kitten, kid. You’re nothing like your father.”

Tikki hugged him too, and Marinette knew that they were going to be okay.

He was still broken, she knew, they both were.

But with time and love, they would both manage to fix themselves.

_ Together. _

* * *

A few days later, Nino plopped himself on the park bench beside Adrien, smiling at him softly. 

“Marinette said I would find you here,” he only said, looking ahead of them.

Adrien sighed.

Of course, Marinette knew where he was. 

For the last few days, she had been subtly fussing over him. Nothing overwhelming, but little things all through the day. She had her own father call him once in a while, calling him  _ son  _ and telling him how much he meant to him and Sabine. She was not-so-subtly avoiding everything father/son related on their on-demand service, and kept showering him with small attentions. 

Not that he was complaining.

Waking up to Marinette peppering kisses all over his face, or having her leave love notes all over his planner for him to find during his classes was sweet in a way he had never experimented before.

But right this second, where Nino found him in a moment where he was just trying to collect his thoughts and put them in an order he could comprehend, he was almost resenting Marinette for always being one step ahead of him.

Almost.

Because the next best thing she could’ve done was to send Nino to keep him company. 

“Hey man,” he said, “I was just thinking.”

“Yeah. Mari says you’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Adrien sighed again. “Yes, confronting the supervillain father took its toll on me. What was Mari expecting?”

The words were harsher than he would’ve liked.

But they weren’t any less true.

Nino chuckled softly. “Yeah. Mari told me you were kinda bitter about that.”

“You can’t understand, Nino,” Adrien sighed. “I’m-”

“Chat Noir. I know.”

Adrien felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. “What? But- how?”

“When you got stabbed Alya and I had suspicions. But then you and Marinette start dating roughly at the same time LB and Chat come back… It was too convenient. Add in Mari’s rental car who just vanished without a trace, and then a lot of things suddenly made much more sense.”

“How… how is Alya taking it?” Adrien asked, dreading the answer.

Nino sighed. “Hard. When the puzzle fell into place, she… she feels like she abandoned Mari when she needed her the most. Like she wasn’t there for her all those years Marinette probably thought you were dead.”

“She couldn’t have known. I… I don’t think Mari is ready to talk about that. Not yet.”

“And Alya knows this. That’s why she hasn’t brought it up. She’ll wait for Mari to tell her herself, don’t worry. Want to take a stroll? I heard there’s supposed to be some kind of market on the Trocadero.”

Adrien stared at his best friend for a second. That was it? No prodding into his inner thoughts? No pestering about how and why he felt like this? No questions about why he had vanished in the first place?

Then again, it was one of the reasons Nino was his best friend.

There was never any drama with Nino.

Nino listened when he wanted to talk, and talked whenever he wanted to listen.

Simple.

Easy.

And right now, Adrien could do easy.

He stood up and walked beside his best friend, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, Marinette called you?”

“I did. I was worried about you. Confronting your father must’ve been hard on you, dude.”

Adrien sighed. “It was. He… He doesn’t even realize what he did was wrong.”

“Really?” Nino asked, his tone honestly startled.

Before Adrien could reply, though, a movement ahead of them caught his attention and he looked away from Nino. 

Sure enough, Mark was walking about twenty feet away from them, his head hung low. Adrien’s heart jumped into his throat, leaving an unpleasant taste of bile in his mouth.

Sure, he knew Mark was due to be released any day now, but  _ knowing  _ he was out of jail and  _ seeing  _ him free as a bird was two entirely different things.

How dared this pathetic excuse of a human being be out in the open in plain sight? Why wasn’t he hiding in some hole like the cockroach he was?

He clenched his fists by his sides, trying to keep his blossoming anger in check. “Oh,” he said to Nino, “there is Mark. Would you mind waiting for me a second, I need to tell him something real quick.”

Without waiting for an answer, Adrien took off jogging, leaving a startled Nino behind. 

He caught up with Mark effortlessly, grabbing his shoulder to get his attention and forcing a model smile on his lips. “Hey, Mark! Remember me? I’m Adrien, Marinette’s  **fiancé** ,” he taunted, insisting on the word he knew would get a reaction from the other man. 

Mark tensed like a guitar string, his eyes frantically darting around them for an escape. “Sorry, Adrien, I’m not allowed to talk to you and-”

“Oh, it won’t be long,” Adrien said.

Mark never got the chance to answer. 

Adrien shoved him into the nearby alley and grabbed the collar of his shirt with both fists, slamming his back against the brick wall. “You got ridiculously little jail time because the judge thought you’re nuts, but you and I, we know better than that. Just know that I have seen all the disgusting pictures you took of Marinette, and I know what you were planning to do to her. If I ever see you in the same building as Marinette again, scratch that, in the same city, I’ll make sure you regret I haven’t killed you on that bridge.”

Mark opened big, terrified eyes as his breath hitched in his throat. “B-but the restraining orders-”

“Listen to me, scum. I’m not a fan of my father’s legacy, but my name still means something in the industry. I’ll make sure that you’ll never find a job in fashion in France.”

Mark cowered in fear as Adrien's fists held him even tighter against the wall. "And don't you dare think that those are empty threats. Don't forget, I put my own father in jail. Think about what I could do to you. Do as much as think about her again, and I'll  **destroy** you."

Nino barrelled down in the alley right this second, and grabbed Adrien’s arm. “Adrien, Adrien, stop, he isn’t worth it.”

Anger blinding him, Adrien punched the wall, leaving scrape wounds all over his knuckles. Mark whimpered pitifully, and Nino grabbed his best friend tighter.

“Adrien, are you out of your damn mind?”

Adrien’s fist refused to relinquish its grip on Mark’s collar. He snarled, blood boiling under his skin. “This creep’s phone was full to the brim of pics of Mari, Nino. Pics he took without her knowing. Without her consent. Pics of her cleavage, of the hem of her skirts.”

Nino paused, looking at Mark with an expression akin to disgust. Before Adrien could react, though, his best friend patted him on the back. “Dude went to jail for what he did, bro, and has restraining orders to follow now. Believe me, I wish nothing more than to deck him too. But he isn’t worth it. You’re better than this, man.”

Adrien’s fists tightened their grip. Nino refused to let his best friend get away with it, though, insisting, “You know Marinette wouldn’t want you to lower yourself to his level, man. Prove her that she’s right in trusting you, and let’s walk away. Let the police deal with this freak.”

“If he ever hurts her again…”

Mark tried to back away from him again, looking even smaller in his shoes than he had prior.

Nino grabbed Adrien’s hand, tearing it away from Mark’s collar. “If he ever comes near Mari again, I’ll help you kill him, Adrien. But right now, you need to let him go.”

“I can’t let him hurt her again,” Adrien breathed, emotions almost choking him.

His best friend held his shoulder, smiling at him softly. “He won’t hurt her, dude. I’m positive Alya will even help us hide the body if it ever comes to this. She’s very good at covering tracks.”

Mark’s pitiful whimper went unnoticed under Adrien’s loud groan.

“I… What can I do?” he ultimately asked, his emotions quickly overwhelming him.

“Let him go,” Nino gently urged. “He can’t come near Marinette or you again, unless he wants to go in jail again. Adrien, please, be the better man here.”

Adrien let out a long sigh, releasing his grip on Mark’s collar at long last. The coward stumbled out of his hold, scrambling to get as far from him as he could.

Nino held Adrien’s arm, though, preventing him from going after the disgusting human being.

“Adrien, stop,” Nino insisted. “Mari wouldn’t want you to go there.”

“I know, but I’m terrified he’ll hurt her again.” 

Nino could understand what Adrien was going through. No doubt he would feel the same way if someone like Mark did what he did to Mari onto Alya. “You know, I have an idea, but it’s entirely up to you.”

Adrien looked at Nino, his brow raised curiously.

Nino went on. “If I was in your shoes, I’d want to go to the only person I knew who could comfort me. And to me, that person would be Alya.” Putting both of his hands on Adrien’s shoulders, he looked at him with a knowing smile. “Who would be that person for you, Adrien?”

There was no hesitation whatsoever in Adrien’s upset mind, no need to think. His princess, his lady was the one who always managed to chase the horrible thoughts, the terrifying nightmares away.  And surely she would be able to chase the ugly and hectic fears his father and Mark had stirred within him yet again. “Marinette,” he breathed.

Nino smiled at his best friend. “I know she’s been fussing over you, but I think it’s her special kind of fussing you need right now. You guys are a team. And I think you know I’m right.”

And he knew. Marinette was his rock and his home. Maybe it was time to head back to his anchor, his most favourite person of all times.

Adrien smiled, “Thanks, bro. Let’s finish that walk towards my apartment, so I can return to my princess and the one I call home.”

As soon as Adrien got home, he wrapped Marinette in a tight hug, his hand resting lazily on her shoulder.

A hand that very obviously bore the traces of his altercation with Mark.

Marinette gasped as she saw the bloody knuckles, grasping the injured hand and inspecting it closely. “Adrien! What the hell did happen to your hand?”

Of course she would notice right away.

She wasn’t  _ Ladybug  _ for nothing.

Plagg was literally buzzing with excitement. “You should’ve seen that Bug! It was AMAZING!”

“I may or may not, have run into Mark on my way home,” Adrien reluctantly admitted, by then knowing the truth was always the only viable answer whereas his lady was concerned.

She opened wide eyes, examining his knuckles closely. “But… how… why? Did he hurt you? Do I need to call Officer Thompson? This is a clear violation of the restraining orders conditions, and-”

“Adrien showed that scum what he would get if he got too close to his Buginette!” Plagg crooned, grinning from ear to ear.

Tikki grabbed him hastily, shushing him. “Plagg! We  _ don’t  _ encourage pointless violence!”

“Calm down, Mari,” Adrien said softly, ignoring the kwamis antics. “ _ I  _ approached him to talk to him. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to try and pull another sick trick on you.”

He hesitated, but he knew he owed Marinette a complete explanation. “I did this to myself when I punched the brick wall beside his head. I’m not proud of myself, but I saw him walking in the street, and I don’t know, I kinda snapped. And Nino had just told me that he and Alya know about us being Ladybug and Chat Noir, but Alya wants to respect your pace and I’m sorry I outed us by insisting on going out and-”

She silenced him, pressing her soft, hot lips against his, pulling him into a messy kiss.

“I love you,” she mumbled in between kisses. “I love you, and nothing you ever do or say is gonna change that. Knowing that Alya knows  _ is  _ unsettling, I won’t lie, but I’ll try to find a way to bring it up in therapy and see what Dr. Ellis says about it. I’ll talk to Alya, I promise. Now go and get those ruffled clothes change.”

“Hey, Mari?” he called before disappearing into  _ their _ bedroom. “Thanks for everything you do for me. You’re amazing.”

“You deserve every second of it, kitty,” she reply, a gentle smile grazing her lips.


	40. Best Team

Adrien marked his student’s paper, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Tonight was his engagement party to the most amazing woman to have ever walked on Earth.

They still had to work out the details of the wedding. The date was yet to set, they hadn’t even discussed a venue yet and Marinette kept restarting her dress design every day or so, but the main fact still remained.

They were getting married.

He, Adrien Agreste, basically orphan and unloved child, was getting married to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The sweetest woman he had ever encountered.

They still had a lot of stuff to deal with. 

He had to be excessively careful when he transformed to avoid bringing any more suspicions on him than there already were. He knew Alya and Marinette had had a lengthy talk with a lot of tears and explanations, and Marinette seemed to be happy that her relationship with her best friend was finally secret free. Talking about those dreaded five years was still difficult for both of them, though, but they were getting there. Alya had even offered to go with Marinette to therapy once or twice to try and go through it.

More classmates of Marinette had reported Mark for harassment and inappropriate behaviour, and stuff police had found on his phone without having victims to link it with suddenly put weight on their words. A detective was appointed to head another case against him, trying to find every single woman Mark had ever stalked.

As long as he was free, Mark would remain a faint threat nagging at the back of Adrien’s mind, the risk that he decided to ignore his restraining order still there, but he was confident Marinette and he could deal with Mark should the need ever arise, which would be a surprise. 

They were superheroes after all and had dealt with one supervillain already.

Adrien suddenly heard a voice he knew really well just outside his office.

_ “Is Adrien in his office?” _ Marinette asked, her voice soft and caring.

_ “Marinette! Hi!”  _ Sofie’s familiar voice answered. “ _ Last I’ve seen him, Monsieur Agreste was in the library. Congratulations on the engagement. I heard the party was tonight?” _

He could almost hear the hesitation in Marinette’s voice before she answered, could tell she was being self-conscious about them.  _ “I… Thanks, Sofie,” _ he heard her say, and he almost could hear the blush in her whisper. 

_ “I’m so happy Monsieur Agreste found someone who loves him that much,” _ Sofie replied.  _ “I’m confident that someday it’ll finally be my turn, that I’ll find my special someone. Someone who will love me just as much as you and Monsieur Agreste love each other.” _

_ “You’re so kind, Sofie,” _ Marinette said, but Sofie apparently wasn’t done with what she had to say.

_ “I can’t deny that Monsieur Agreste is a really handsome man, a kind and smart one at that.You’re a lucky woman, Marinette. He loves you in a way I can only hope to compete with. I want somebody to love me like that.” _

Adrien could almost see the gears turning in Marinette’s mind. What he didn’t expect, though, was for her to blurt abruptly,  _ “Has Adrien invited you to the engagement party?” _

Sofie understandably paused, probably staring at Marinette like a deer in headlights.

_ “He hasn’t,” _ the young woman answered truthfully.  _ “Actually, I’m not sure this would be my place, to begin with. We’re only colleagues, after all.” _

Adrien stilled in his chair for a second, and then bolted for the door. What in the world was Marinette trying to do?

Before he could reach his office door, though, he heard his fiancée’s voice reply softly, _ “I would like to have you there with us. You obviously care a lot for Adrien, and that’s something I refuse to deny him: people who love him.” _

Sofie giggled, and for a split second Adrien thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but then she said something that blew his mind miles away.

_ “You know, I don’t have many female friends, Marinette,”  _ Sofie said, her voice soft and earnest.  _ “How does a shopping trip on Saturday sounds to you?” _

_ “Stellar! I’ll bring my best friend with me, I really think you two are going to hit it off, from what I already know from you,” _ Marinette replied.

Sofie laughed, and Adrien turned his office’s door handle.  _ “As long as it isn’t a blind date, I’m in!” _

_ “I would never dare!”  _ Marinette giggled, and Adrien opened his door at that moment. He knew he'd have to leave his office soon or the two of them would be chatting up a storm all night.

His heart skipped a beat.

Marinette had been talking excitedly about her dress for the party for over a week. And he could now understand why.

She was  _ stunning _ .

It had an A-line black satin skirt that was falling just under her knees, with layers of tulle over it making it fluffy. It hugged her waist nicely, with a satin bow in her back. The form-fitting scarlet top left her shoulders bare, with sleeves reaching her elbows. Her hair was tied into an elegant bun, and her light makeup enhanced her incredible eyes. Her feet were encased in bright red kitten heels.

“Well, you two are incredibly chatty,” he teased, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from his fiancée. “How am I supposed to grade my students’ papers with you two talking like there’s no tomorrow just outside my office?”

Marinette smiled at him, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Go back in there, silly kitty, I’m busy making friends.”

“Sorry for interrupting, then,” he replied with a smirk. “Do you want me to come back later? I still have a few papers to grade.”

“Don’t be silly, you know we have to go or else Chloe will go crazy on us. Will you ride with us, Sofie?” Marinette asked, smiling widely. “The party is held at the Grand Paris.”

Sofie playfully gasped, “My! Someone has friends in high places!”

Marinette nudged her gently, “Chloe nearly had a conniption when she found out we weren’t planning an engagement party. I guess you don’t get to marry Chloe Bourgeois’ childhood friend and get out of social events like these.”

Sofie  _ did _ end up riding with them to the hotel and getting along really well with Marinette. Incessant chatter filled up the car all the way there, and Adrien loved the sound of his wife-to-be laughing and bantering with his colleague. He could picture the two of them becoming close friends, and it made him happy.

He may not have a blood family anymore.

But with Marinette, he could build one for his heart. They could keep their friends close, and someday, they could get started on those children they both desired so much.

Not that he minded getting tons of practice with her beforehand.

Adrien shook his head, trying to derail his thoughts from that dangerous direction. It wasn’t the best idea to think about all the dirty things he wanted to do to Marinette on his way to a party held by Chloe Bourgeois.

He parked the car and turned around in his seat, looking at the two women laughing their asses off in the backseat. “We’re here, ladies. Ready to face Chloe’s extravagance?”

Sofie raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried? Am I underdressed?” she said worriedly, stroking the pleats of her black skirt. She had a chiffon blouse on, and while she did look underdressed beside Marinette, Adrien knew it wouldn’t be a problem once they were going to reach the party.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “You look absolutely fine.”

The minute they stepped into the reception room, Marinette and he were literally swarmed by friends and relatives rushing toward them to congratulate them on their engagement. Adrien lost track of Sofie’s whereabouts in the commotion, and could no longer see where Marinette was.

He was surrounded by friends, old colleagues, old classmates.

All people he had once known and appreciated.

He could tell Chloe had gone the long way to invite as many people she could, to make him feel like he wasn’t virtually alone.

Like he was _ loved. _

Adrien felt his heart swell with love for his oldest friend in his chest.

True, Chloe had her interesting quirks. But she was loyal.

And she was truly happy for him.

As soon as the thought grazed his mind, familiar lean arms laced around his neck, and Chloe whispered in his ear, “I’m glad you guys made it. Carlisle has been talking non-stop about auntie Mawi’s party all week.”

“And as usual, Uncle Adrien comes second! Thanks for having us, Chlo,” Adrien replied softly, returning her hug. “It means the world to us.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’re not getting married without celebrating your engagement first on my watch, Adrien Agreste,” Chloe replied with a playful wink, before disappearing into the crowd to tend to her guests.

The party was a huge success.

The only mishap was when Nathanael knocked his cocktail on Sofie’s blouse, sending red splatters on the chiffon, but Sabrina took care of it swiftly and with so much efficiency that almost nobody noticed Sofie’s brief disappearance.

Before Adrien could worry about his colleague’s absence she was walking back into the room beside Sabrina, clad in one of Chloe’s cocktail dresses. Nathanael scrambled to her, dissolving into apologies. Apologies who were brushed aside by a brightly blushing Sofie, who stated shyly that a drink would entirely make up for it.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Nino’s voice suddenly announced, distracting Adrien from the stuttering pair. “To Adrien and Marinette’s long overdue engagement!”

Laughter rippled through the room, and all the guests lifted their glasses, chorusing, “To Adrien and Marinette!”

The mood was set, and one by one, all of their friends and relatives shared little anecdotes and stories about the couple and how it had taken them so long to finally act on their feelings for each other.

As he listened to the numerous toasts and congratulations, Adrien smiled to himself. For everyone, Marinette and he had danced around the issue for two painstakingly long years. What would they say should they know that the dance really had begun when they were fifteen?

“Adrien, look,” Marinette suddenly told him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He followed her finger and audibly gasped.

“Oh my gosh,” he said. “Really? That was fast.”

About twenty feet away from them, Sofie was laughing, her hand on Nathanael’s arm. He was looking at her like she was the sun, like she was some kind of wonder he couldn’t ever get enough of her.

And Sofie was very clearly reciprocating his obvious attraction to her.

Adrien smiled. “Seems like getting to meet her special someone won’t be a problem any longer,” he said, and Marinette playfully swatted him on the arm.

“Hush, silly cat! You’re going to jinx it!”

“I’m betting that they will beat Alya and Nino to the altar,” Adrien pressed on, a devilish smile on his lips.

Marinette stared at him, clearly unimpressed. “You do know that if I let Alya on about the bet, she’ll get married tomorrow just so you lose?”

“But then you would be cheating, so I’d still be winning.”

“You’re impossible,” she replied with a sigh, but her eyes were shining with glee.

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist, landing a tender gaze on the room full of people who loved them.

He was unsuspectedly wrapped in a bear hug, and Tom’s cheerful voice filled his ears, “There they are! We’re so happy for you, kids. Have you begun working on those grandchildren yet? I’m not getting any younger here!”

Marinette flushed an interesting shade of red and squealed inelegantly, “DAD!”

Chloe, who was walking by with a fussy Carlisle in her arms, flashed them a brilliant smile, “Carlisle get dibs on your first daughter, right? Or son, I don’t know what they’ll be into yet.”

They all laughed at that, and the love was almost overwhelming in the room.

Sabine looked at Adrien and Marinette, so much fondness in her eyes that Adrien felt his heart melt a little. “You’ve both gone through so much,” she said, “and you’ve been doing so good ever since you’re supporting each other. I’m very proud of you both.”

“We’re the best team,” Marinette agreed, and the veiled meaning in her words wasn’t lost on Adrien.

Tom chuckled, “I’m happy you finally found your place in this world, kids, and that you are building a life that makes you both happy.”

Adrien looked at the woman standing beside him, beautiful beyond words in her pretty dress, looking at him with big, brilliant eyes. “It’s going to sound awful, but I’m almost glad she lost her apartment. Marinette coming living with me, it was the best thing that could ever have happened to me. She’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”

Tom smiled proudly. “Still, it was very generous of you to offer her shelter in those times of need, Adrien.”

Adrien smiled at Marinette, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. “I may have offered her a house, but she made it a home.”


	41. Epilogue

Marinette linked her fingers with Adrien’s as they walked to the bakery, the warm evening surrounding them in a peaceful atmosphere.

“It was a really nice anniversary, princess,” Adrien said, looking at her tenderly.

She beamed at her husband, wondering how he had managed to get even more handsome with time. At twenty-seven, he was wearing his hair a little bit longer than he used to, and it framed his face in a way that slightly reminded her of Chat Noir.

They had gotten married the summer following her graduation.

It had been a lovely and intimate ceremony, a handful of family and friends celebrating their love with them. Marinette had, according to Adrien, been stunning in her dress, a masterpiece she had spent months designing and making from scratch. It was a simple dress, a form-fitting sheath dress with frosted lace appliqués with an A-line skirt that pooled around her feet on the floor. The sweetheart neckline was accented with delicate off-the-shoulder sleeves that brought attention to her long and slender neck.

And the _buttons_.

A long, long row of little white buttons going down her back, which Adrien had unfastened one by one at a tantalizingly slow pace when they had _finally_ been away from prying eyes. The dress had fallen on the floor when he had been done with the last one, and she knew it had taken all of Adrien’s self-control not to ravish her on the spot.

Instead, her complicated bun had met the same demise as he had removed every hairpin almost reverently, while Marinette was pushing his shirt off his shoulders, her own patience wavering.

When he had made love to her that night, when her _husband_ had finally entered her, it had been an indescribable feeling. Like puzzle pieces falling into place at long last.

Adrien had surprised her with a honeymoon in Brazil, where they had spent a perfect week feasting on gorgeous beaches, the beauty of Iguassu Falls. They had gone to the Parintins Folklore Festival shows and enjoyed greatly the stories about the resuscitated ox. An expedition in the Amazon jungle had revealed that if Adrien hated zombies, Marinette wasn’t faring much better with snakes.

She had come home from their trip energized and ready to tackle their new life.

The next week she had landed a paid internship as a junior designer for a local boutique under the mentorship of an adorable man who was truly happy to pass on his experience. Raoul was a colourful character, and more often than not Marinette wondered if he had even looked in the mirror before leaving home, but he knew what he was talking about and had a way to teach things that made it fun to work with him.

Adrien loved Raoul. Both men had gotten along instantly. It helped a lot that Raoul was kind and took great care of his employees. Lunch breaks under his care were mandatory, and Marinette found out rather quickly that he kept a close tab on the timesheets. Every single minute of work was paid, and he didn’t hesitate to send you home whenever he deemed that you had worked too many hours.

“How do you think it went?” Adrien asked, breaking her train of thoughts.

She giggled, pulling out her phone for the hundredth time. “Still no messages. Either everyone is dead, or everything is fine.”

“Mari!” Adrien whined. “Don’t joke about those things.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I’m sure Emma is doing just fine, kitty.”

Emma.

Their little surprise. Their little miracle.

Marinette had been on the pill ever since she was fourteen to help with handicapping menstrual cramps. It had the intended effect and made her periods a lot less intense and painful, but she had been on the same pill for over a decade and hated it because of its side-effects. Shortly after their honeymoon, Marinette’s doctor had suggested she switched to a lower dose and see if it helped.

Roughly ten months later, she was giving birth to the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes on.

Once the shock passed, Adrien had been beside himself with joy when she had given him the news, and her parents had been beyond elated. Raoul had been _so_ understanding that it brought Marinette to tears when she thought about it. Her position was still hers after her maternity leave, and he had been beyond accommodating during her pregnancy, which had thankfully been easy.

The delivery had been another story.

Emma had decided that she wouldn’t wait until her due date to meet her parents. Three weeks earlier than anyone expected, Marinette went into labour at three in the morning. Adrien had rushed her to the nearest hospital in her nightgown and his pajamas, only to be told that the doctor was already helping another woman and would be with them as soon as possible.

Emma had other plans in mind. Barely even minutes after the nurse left the room, having installed Marinette as comfortably as she could, Marinette felt the urge to push. Adrien had pushed the button for the nurses frantically, and they had rushed into the room, calling the doctor and hurrying to get things ready. However, Marinette suddenly begged Adrien to catch their daughter, which startled him out of his frenzied state.

He had rounded the bed just in time to see his daughter’s birth and catch the newborn before she hit the bed.

Though stressful, the experience had been special for all of them. Plagg and Tikki liked to joke that Adrien and Marinette were so good a team that they didn’t even need doctors or nurses to give birth. There was a special bond between Adrien and Emma, a bond Marinette was adamant would’ve been weaker if her daddy hadn’t been the first face she’d ever lay her eyes on.

“It was nice of your parents to babysit for us tonight,” Adrien told her softly, but she still could feel him being nervous beside her.

“You’re missing her, aren’t you?”

He flushed. “It’s just… It’s the first time I’m not with her since school ended for the summer. And she’s still so tiny.”

“She’s only six months old, Adrien,” Marinette gently chastised. “Of course she’s going to be small.”

She pushed the door to the bakery and followed the cooing sounds up to the apartment. Sure enough, her father was laying on his back in the middle of the living room with Emma laid on his chest, and he was making funny faces at her while her mother was snapping picture after picture of their granddaughter.

“Oh, you’re _already_ back?” Sabine said, obviously disappointed.

Marinette laughed. “Mama, we’ve been gone for a few hours already. And we were missing her. How did it go?”

“You were an easy baby, but Emma is such a sweetheart. She had her bottle about an hour ago, I don’t know if you had to breastfeed her?”

“I’m good for an hour or two I think. I’ll pump if she’s not hungry, it’s not a big deal.”

Tom got up, handing the infant to Adrien. “You two are managing the parent life like champions.”

Marinette laughed, winking at Adrien. “What can I say? We are the perfect team.”

“I don’t see your car in the street, Adrien,” Sabine said. “Are you parked far from here?”

He exchanged a meaningful glance with Marinette and shrugged with a smile. “We’re taking the scenic route tonight.”

“Hurry up then, it’s getting dark outside. Please be careful with Emma, alright? And text us to let us know you made it home safe.”

“I will, Mama,” Marinette said, pressing kisses on the cheeks of her parents as they all headed to Marinette’s old bedroom. Some things never changed, and her old balcony was still the better place to swing into the sky at the bakery.

Telling her parents about their second life had been the hardest thing Marinette had ever done. She knew they wouldn’t be pleased with all the secrecy, and felt bad having Alya and Nino knowing about their double identity but keeping lying about it to her parents.

Her fears had been vain.

“ _How many times do you think you can sneak out of your room every time an akuma happen without us putting two and two together?_ ” Sabine had said when Marinette had come clean, a knowing smirk on her lips.

“Who’s wearing the baby carrier tonight?” Plagg asked, cuddled against Sabine’s cheek. “Just so I know how much cheese is in it for me.”

Marinette laughed. “You’re in luck Plagg. Adrien missed her a lot, I’m going to let him bring our daughter home.”

“Well then,” Tikki said, “you guys know the magic words.”

The familiar magic washed over them both, and not for the first time Marinette was grateful the magic seemed to consider Emma’s diaper bag the same way it had her purse. It would’ve been awkward to explain to Chloe why Ladybug was running on rooftops with her unique, one-of-a-kind designer diaper bag imported from Milan.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this,” Sabine said, smiling fondly.

Chat Noir stood proudly before them, Plagg’s baby carrier safely in place. The grey and sturdy straps were made of the same magical leather than the suit, making it nearly indestructible now Plagg and Adrien’s bond was mended. Plagg had taken a liking to creating the baby pouch in a bright red, polka-dotted fabric, while Tikki preferred making the pouch black with neon green stitching. This time, however, Plagg had outdone himself and had replaced the bell with a stuffed toy that was gently jingling.

Tom helped Chat Noir put Emma into the baby carrier and adjusted her hat on her head. Ladybug put her bright green pacifier back in her daughter’s mouth and smiled at her husband and parents, launching her yoyo.

The next minute, they were both flying into the sky.

Chat Noir and Ladybug outings had become a regular occurrence ever since their official return. They suited up a few times a week and ran on their rooftops. When Ladybug had stopped appearing for a few nights in a row, Chat Noir had had to hop down his beloved rooftops and make an official statement that his lady was currently unwell, but would reappear in time… with a little bundle of joy.

Ladybug saw her husband vaulting himself ahead of her toward their apartment building. She could hear Emma cooing in the carrier. She always liked when her daddy was going high.

And currently, he was running too high.

She swung herself toward him, channelling her most stern face. “Chat Noir!” she called out to her husband, ignoring the civilians pointing to them from the street. “We said no higher than three stories!”

He paused mid-air and did a ridiculous pirouette before landing beside her. As Adrien, he was a worrier and constantly fussed over their daughter like a mother hen. As Chat Noir, he was a tad more reckless, freer, but still was mindful of their daughter’s wellbeing.

Fifteen minutes later they were landing on the emergency stairs of their flat. Chat Noir let go of his transformation as soon as they were inside the living room, and headed to Emma’s bedroom with a sleeping infant cradled in his arms.

Marinette’s old bedroom had been converted into a beautiful nursery.

The walls were a warm grey, and Marinette had painted white lines in a diamond pattern on one of the walls. The crib and the rocking chair were a soft white, and baby pink flowers were dancing above the crib. Marinette had sewn the bedding herself, in a soft, pale pink, and when she had had troubles sleeping because of the pregnancy she had knitted a blanket in similar hues.

It was simple.

It was _them_.

Adrien put Emma in her crib, staring and the angelic face of their daughter. Marinette walked up to him, smiling as she saw the Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls at the foot of the bed. He had put them there the second the crib had been assembled, and she had a strong feeling that her Chat Noir plush was no longer hers.

She wrapped her arms around his midsection, leaning her cheek against his back. “Let her sleep, minou.”

He nodded and followed her out of the room and into their own bedroom. She flicked the lights on, and sat at the foot of their bed, looking at her husband fondly.

This was her life.

She was married to this incredible man, had a beautiful daughter with him, a job with a wonderful boss, friends and family who were amazingly present in their life.

How in the world could she be that lucky?

Her eyes fell on the sleeping kwamis in their little bed, and she smiled.

“You seem pensive,” Adrien’s voice startled her.

She looked up at him and felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. He had taken off his shirt and was standing in front of her, looking at her quizzically.

“It’s unfair how much effect you still have on me,” she stated, pouting playfully.

Adrien smiled and climbed on the bed. “At what time are you meeting Alya tomorrow?”

“Only at ten. They’re getting off the plane late tonight, and she’s going to sleep like a rock.”

Nino’s brief incursion in cinema had led to a passion for photography. With Alya’s international career as a humanitarian reporter taking off, the next step had only been logical from there. They were travelling the world together, trying to change the world one reportage at the time.

Of course, it also meant their wedding had been postponed until their life got a little less hectic, granting Adrien an easy victory on his bet with Marinette. Nathanael had popped the big question to Sofie after six months of dating, and the wedding planning was going well. The last time Marinette had seen Sofie she had found her particularly radiant, making her wonder if maybe there was more good news coming their way.

After all, Carlisle and Emma could use more little friends to play with them. Sabrina was currently pregnant with her and Chloe’s second child, but they didn’t know the sex yet. Sabrina wished for a girl, but Chloe was rooting hard for another boy, arguing that they were going to be less trouble in their teenage years.

“Good,” Adrien replied, “that means you won’t have to get up early.”

His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and she shivered in his arms. “You mean,” she breathed, “ _if_ Emma let us sleep more than a few hours?”

He kissed her hungrily, and growled against her lips, “I’ll take the graveyard shift if you let me love you.”

She giggled in the kiss, “Do you need my permission to love me now, Monsieur Agreste?”

“I love you, Mari. I love you so much. Don’t ever leave me,” he said, peppering kisses in the hollow of her throat.

“Why would I?” Marinette breathed softly. “Wherever I’d go, you would always find a way to bring me home.”

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a minute to thanks my wonderful beta, Kryalla-Orchid, for the titan work she did on this fic.  
> This story wouldn't be the same without you, Kry.  
> Thanks a lot. You're amazing, and every writer needs their Kry.  
> To all my wonderful readers, thanks for sticking up with me until the end.  
> I love you all. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Come bother me on tumblr ! : http://maerynn-blog.tumblr.com/


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